


Pinot Blanc

by caixa



Series: Sour Grapes [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carolina Hurricanes, Complicated Relationships, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Fluff, Infidelity Aftermath, Kinda, M/M, Meddling Friends, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sequel, Spanking, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: “I don’t want you to feel lonely,” says the wife.“Just make sure you don’t break anything,” says the head coach.“This is no honeymoon. We’re here to play hockey,” says Sebastian.•••In a sequel to Pinot Noir a two-week road trip gives Sebastian Aho and Cam Ward a chance to talk things over.•••Title changed April 18th 2018. Was "Unmasked".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear reader,  
> I was going to leave my earlier Aho/Ward fic "Pinot Noir" at that. I felt the story, in all its ambiguity and with the feelings left raw and open, was quite complete as such. I even said it in a reply to a comment I received on the story.
> 
> The comment (by Avenging_corgi, thanks a lot!) was like this:
> 
> "I read this and was really sad that you didn't expand on the whole aspect of maybe Sebastian meeting Cam's family and maybe Cam having okay'd it with his wife before hand? It would have been awesome if you did that! But I loved it how it was, how you wrote it! The end was a cliffhanger and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it!!"
> 
> However, here we are now. Despite my initial reluctance the comment sparked something in my brain and I started to feel that there was still story to be told.
> 
> This sequel takes it to that direction, still not completely giving up the bittersweet undertones of the original fic, I hope. This has the non-famous family members in bigger roles so if that stuff bothers you, consider yourself warned.
> 
> Another warning, just to be on the safe side (do i need to say spoiler alert here?): the daddy kink exploration in the end part of the first chapter includes some incest roleplay (umm, in case it always doesn't, the exact term confuses me sorry) and assuming child-like behaviour, in case someone finds it disturbing.
> 
> If you loved Pinot Noir and do not want the story to continue this way, I'm not sorry. Consider this an AU take on the subject and enjoy :)
> 
>  
> 
> Please keep this out of the eyes of children and anyone mentioned below.
> 
> Enjoy responsibly!
> 
> \--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're nothing new, sweetheart. You're just the newest."

 

 

Bless Nolan’s pure heart. Bless that sweet kid, so open to the world, embracing people with infinite trust; it tells only good things of them as parents and should in no way be discouraged.

That’s what Cam keeps saying to himself to keep a calm, mellow face even though he grits his teeth and wants to bang his head to the nearest wall as he listens to his son’s blabbering.

“Then he said he doesn’t have his phone on the ice, but he has an Instagram account, and I should ask you, dad, to show it to me, will you, dad? He said the photo is there. I want to see it! Please!”

“Later, Nolan!” Cam says, voice muffled because he is bowing his face down, head butting to the backseat cushions, trying to see the right slot to attach his son’s seat belt.

“What is it?” Cody asks when Cam sits down on the driver’s seat next to her. His wife is frighteningly good at picking up the slightest irritation in his voice when he tries to hide it.

“Oh, nothing”, he replies. But of course Nolan (bless his ability to hear, Cam will never stop being grateful for it but please, sometimes the boy could keep his ears to himself) chimes in.

“Sebastian Aho has played hockey when he was just three! He told me he had a helmet with a metal grid over the face and he has a picture of it on his Instagram! Daddy should show it to me!”

“I said _later_ ,” Cam repeats, dropping the words through a clenched jaw, trying his hardest to keep his voice from dropping to a pissed growl.

Cody squints at him. “Honey, I think you should show it to your son if he asks,” she says with a saccharine tone.

Cam sighs. Faked sweetness is, of course, better than tears, swearing and the worst of all, the heartbroken, sunken, crumbling voice full of grave disappointment. Bless his courageous wife, not even flinching when _The Name_ pops up in the middle of the most everyday family discussion for the first time after _The Talk_.

 

<> 

 

 _The Talk_ came about after one specific shootout.

 

Sebastian’s first goal of the season had popped open the proverbial ketchup bottle that his famous countryman Teemu Selänne often talked about. He scored in the next game after the win over Dallas Stars. And in the next one, and the next one.

He scored a wicked penalty shot against another countryman, Juuse Saros of the Preds, and Nolan wouldn’t stop talking about it on the car drive back home.

“Did you see it, dad? Would you have caught it, dad? Would you have known where he was gonna shoot?”

“I guess”, Cam mumbled.

“Coach Peters said he asked him ‘Do you own this guy’ and he said ‘yeah, I do’,” the boy continued. The post-game presser had apparently been playing in the TV’s on the arena when the family had been waiting for Cam to get ready to go home.

“ _Do you own this guy?” “Yeah, I do.”_ Cam’s son kept re-enacting the dialogue in the backseat and drew his little sister in it, too.

Cam wished they would stop. He didn’t want to snap but it was getting close.

“How do you _own_ a guy?” Nolan asked. “Is it like a slave?”

“I don’t know, Nolan. Could you chill, son? It’s been a long day.” Cam kept his voice even and low but noticed his knuckles getting white squeezing the steering wheel.

“Do _you_ own somebody, dad? Does he _own_ you?”

“ _ENOUGH_ , Nolan!” Cam regretted shouting before he even closed his mouth. He peeked at the rear view mirror, Nolan looked upset, he pouted, lips shut, and looked back at him eyes wide as platters.

 

Cody turned and extended her hand to stroke their upset son’s knee between the front seats, casting a questioning gaze at her husband on the way.

Cam met her eyes, and something in the way he knitted his brows exuded a kind of anxiety that made her feel quite queasy. She sensed that a storm was coming, a steadily approaching thunder cloud, bolts rattling inside its thick grey emptiness, but what were the bad news it would bring along, she had no idea. A trade lurking around the corner? An injury Cam had withheld from her?

She detached her hand from the little backseat passenger’s knee and swept it along her husband’s arm, as if to acknowledge his disquietude.

 

The kids went to sleep fairly easily; the drive home back from the arena had worked its usual magic of winding down the game night excitement. Cody made sure both had their teeth brushed before going to bed.

Cam waited for her in the bedroom but not lounging on the bed as usual; instead he was sitting on a chair he had pulled in front of an armchair, seemingly keeping the softer seat free for his wife.

He sat a bit crouched, leaning his forearms to his knees, rubbing his hands mechanically together and followed Cody with his gaze.

“I’m sorry I snapped at Nolan in the car.”

Cody nodded and sat down on the armchair, leaning back to the backrest, but instead of relaxed her posture was quite wary.

“I noticed it. Why did you? What was it about?”

“Not what. Who.”

Cody was not sure if she followed her husband’s train of thought.

Cam sighed. “Sorry, sorry. I tried to say… It was hard for me to listen to him rambling about Sebastian.”

Cody knew what he was about to say before he said it, it was like a reverse echo, like she heard him before she saw his lips move.

“Why, Cam?” she asked, voice distant and foreign to herself, mouth dry. She wouldn’t have needed to ask why but she did, scolding herself internally that she did, that she didn’t drag out the silence until it was uncomfortable, until it would force her husband to speak unprompted, unassisted.

Cam sucked his teeth, looked up like collecting his thoughts from the ceiling and looked her in the eye.

“I slept with him.”

“What?” she shouted her line like it was given to her from above, _why do I keep prompting him with these questions, it’s not my duty to make telling it any easier for him_.

“I had sex with him. I’m sorry.”

“Without telling me first.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Without giving me the chance to say if I can take it this time. Without giving me the chance to say no. Without giving me the opportunity to feel that my wish is respected. That _I_ am respected.”

“I’m sorry, Cody. I’m sorry.”

“That’s what’s made us special, Cam. When I have my veto it means _I matter_. I have my say in this family. In our relationship.” Her eyes gleamed now, they were tearing up but the anger was still too cold-hot, dry. It kept the tears from rolling down but her voice started to crumble on the edges when she continued. “You took it away from me, Cam.” She sniffed now. “You’re taking the _trust_ we have away from me. From us. You fucking cheated _us_. You didn’t just cheat _me_. You betrayed _us_.”

 

Then the when-where-why’s, frozen posture, dropped head, tears. Throw-up sounds in the bathroom. _Are you sure this hasn’t happened before? How can I know you didn’t do it all those times when I said I wished you wouldn’t?_

All those times. Like there had been that many, considering the years they had been together.

 

<> 

 

There they are now, in the middle of a cold war, veiled insults, saccharine sweetness, Cam walking on eggshells. Falling asleep curled up on the small couch in their bedroom, not in the living room even though the couch there would be more comfortable, Cody is adamant on not worrying the kids.

No way in the guest bedroom. It’s a sealed tomb, door rigidly closed. It doesn’t help that Cam left the sheets to the laundry on his way to pick his family up from the airport, and that he turned the mattress around after he spotted tiny purple dots, stains from red wine, on the fabric, and didn’t mention it to anyone.

The day after he told, Cody went inside the room, breathed hard for ten seconds, bolted out and slammed the door shut.

The next day she went in, stayed for ten seconds, bolted out, went in again, gathered the blankets and pillows inside a garbage bag, twisted it in an angry knot and hauled the bag out, next to the trashcan. She opened the windows for fresh air for half an hour, the glasses rattled when she banged the panes shut again, and slammed the door shut.

It’s remained shut. A sealed tomb.

 

Not that Cam hasn’t sneaked in when he’s alone in the house. Of course he has, pictured Sebastian sprawled on the bed, his beautiful pale body on full display, or riding him, sweaty hair hanging down, holding back nothing, moaning and shouting. Offering it all to Cam so generously, his mouth and ass and cock.

Cam jerks off in the shower, behind locked bathroom door, one hand on his cock, the other leaning to the wall. He looks down, sees Sebastian on his knees on the floor, the image burned in his brain so vividly: his wet hair, his mouth, chin up, water and cum streaming down his cheeks.

For a moment he thinks of turning down the shower, picking up his phone, taking a close-up pic and sending it to Sebastian but doesn’t. He has to do this right, as right as he can.

 

<> 

 

Sebastian has seen Cam’s family watching the dad play and practice for the whole week after the last away games but after the Preds match they stop coming.

Cam seems to keep his distance, they exchange the usual greetings but never really talk. Sebastian doesn’t have a clue of what their situation is and the more the days pass, the more impossible it feels to ask.

When they win, and Cam happens to be in the goal, Sebastian looks him deep in the eye as he goes to hug him at the end of the game, like looking for answers there.

They are silent questions: not only mute; they are formless, he’s not sure if he would even have the words in case he dared to voice them out loud.

 

It takes Sebastian by surprise when days later, all of the sudden, female voice shouts a sharp “Aho!” in the empty hallway of the arena. He’s on his way to get a cup of coffee after the morning skate and turns his head to the approaching tippety-tap of ballet flats.

His expression turns into one of sheer horror when he recognizes the face and the long blonde hair. He readies himself to face the wrath and turns on his feet very slowly, trying to compose himself.

 

Cody stops next to him and crosses her arms on her chest.

“Do you have something to say to me?”

Sebastian clams up. His face goes from aghast to completely shut.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles eventually.

He knows it’s the lamest thing to say. Cody shifts her weight from one foot to another and tilts her head slightly towards her other shoulder and gives Sebastian a tired look, the kind you can see on the face of a disappointed teacher.

“ _Really?_ ” she asks.

Sebastian’s shoulders drop. He looks at Cody warily.

“I’m sorry,” he says rigidly,

“You should be,” Cody snaps.

Sebastian purses his lips, inhales and exhales deeply through his nose. He looks pensive, rubs his lips together and lifts his eyes to Cody’s. “He loves you,” he says and wrinkles his face uneasily. “I didn’t want to hurt anybody.”

 

Cody shakes her head. _Look, that’s about as clichéd as you can get_ , she thinks to herself but doesn’t say it. She sighs.

“Do you think this is the first time I’m facing one of my husband’s boy toys?” she asks instead. “You’re nothing new, sweetheart. You’re just the newest.”

If it hits Sebastian bad, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch. Maybe he thinks he deserves it, maybe he can guess that Cody mainly wants to unnerve him out of her own hurt.

Sebastian makes a series of silent, serious nods.

He looks so pure and young, the pretty boyish face a mixture of considerate and confused.

She hates him. She wants to hate him. She should hate him; he gives her every reason to.

 

Cody doesn’t know what possesses her but she decides to give a go at her sudden whim.

_I’ll try any means of coping with this shit. It’s my right. I need to build on something. This is already weird enough._

“You should kiss me,” she says, “At least show me what he’s had.”

Sebastian’s head twitches up but he falls into step with a surprising ease. He looks at her attentively and tilts his head.

“Sure,” he says softly, almost whispering, and the contradiction between the nonchalance of the word and the intimacy of the tone of his voice is close to make Cody laugh.

 

Sebastian doesn’t laugh. He steps closer, softly inching in her space, leans his weight on one foot, lets the other rest slightly bent, the inside of his thigh almost touching the outside of hers. He settles there like she wasn’t older, like she wasn’t his teammate’s betrayed wife and a mother of two kids; he looks at her like she was his age, a hot chick he’s met at a club, or is taking home after a nice date.

He brushes her hair with his fingers, tucks some gently behind her ears. He’s not tall for a hockey player but he’s taller than her, and his hands are big and warm. She can feel him holding back their hidden strength as he very delicately cups her face with both hands, strokes her hairline behind her ears with his fingertips, her jawline with his thumbs.

His lips are slightly parted, they look soft and relaxed. He looks her in the eye like asking for the final approval, she doesn’t know what signal she’s sending to him but eventually he leans in, head tilted to avoid clashing with her nose.

The lips land softly on hers, close around her bottom lip, move slightly to taste the upper lip. Sebastian is a good and courteous kisser: his lips are vivid and soft, they move like he has taken a bite of a delicious treat he wants to melt in his mouth; he lets her feel the moisture and warmth of his mouth but doesn’t force his tongue on her.

Maybe she kind of wishes he did.

She feels Sebastian’s hands move: fingers dive under her long hair, tangle with it in the back, the gentle pull prickles on her scalp. The other hand caresses her jaw with the knuckle side of the fingers, moves to her earlobe, fondles it, and the mouth opens more, she opens hers to follow the lead, and –

the jeans-clad knee sways ever so slightly back and forth, the thigh rubs against hers, lightly but _boy_ she can feel it, and –

 _wow_ , she has to briefly appreciate the guts but she realizes this wasn’t supposed to go quite like this. Cody makes a noise, a short whine, and Sebastian backs off from the kiss as courteously and languidly as he started, with a sweeping sideways brush to the curve of her upper lip, leaving it prickly, ticklish, she has to force her hands down not to rub the tickle off.

 

Sebastian detaches his hand from her hair, strokes her cheek with his thumb on the way. He tucks his fingertips inside the edge of his jeans pocket.

He bites his lip like holding back a smile, puts the foot that was so intimately close to hers only seconds ago behind the other one. He sways on his pristine white sneakers, these hockey boys and their obsession with footwear.

“Are you expecting a review?” she blurts.

Sebastian breaks into a smile and widens his eyes. “What, don’t I get one?”

She has to bite down a chuckle. “Maybe a B minus”, she says and Sebastian’s face brightens immediately.

“B minus? That’s a really good grade!” he beams.

Cody squints at him. “Hold on, Aho. Maybe it’s closer to a C, C plus, tops.”

Sebastian smirks. “C for cute.”

Cody rolls her eyes. _Seriously?_ she doesn’t say.

“If you like the slutty fuckboy kind,” she says instead.

Sebastian bows his head and looks her in the eye through his eyelashes, it’s weird how they are so light brown compared to the dark brows, Cody observes.

“I know who like the slutty fuckboys,” he says in a purring voice, his distinguishable lisp blurring the S’s.

Cody’s heart sinks, she prepares for the unfair low blow, something condescending about Cam.

“Desp—“ Sebastian starts but pauses mid-word, as if he’s not going to stumble through the multiple syllables, “Lonely housewives,” he concludes, cups her shoulder with one hand and leans forward to kiss her forehead.

It’s too sudden for Cody to stop him, and as he turns to leave, says a friendly “Nice talking to you” and waves like a kid over his shoulder, those damn shiny white trainers spurring his long legs to springy steps, she wonders if she would even have wanted to prevent it.

 

The boy invades her dream that night. She is mildly embarrassed by how good it makes her feel.

In the dream Sebastian knows exactly how to treat her. They kiss like they kissed in the daytime, but it intensifies. He becomes pushy and dominating, humming and purring around her tongue. He twists her hair in his fist, pushes her to the wall; he lifts her hands above her head, holds her wrists to the wall with one hand, keeps kissing her mouth. His other hand has slid to her breast, he squeezes and rubs it through her shirt, his chest pressing to the other breast, the lace of her bra abrades her nipples, works them up, makes them hard and sensitive.

Because it’s a dream, the next moment they are behind a closed door, in a bathroom along the arena hallway. She’s not wearing the same clothes as before, this is something she might have worn to a bar when she was younger: a denim miniskirt, push-up bra under a spaghetti strap top, heels. Sebastian has lifted her on the edge of a countertop, he kisses her mouth leaning his front to the counter between her spread legs, rubs and kneads her tits through the skimpy top until they bulge out of the cleavage, exposing her hard nipples that rub against the lace trim of the bra. Her skirt is bunched up around her hips.

Sebastian leaves her tits, moves one hand to the nape of her neck, the other one between her thighs, rubs her wet pussy over the panties, kissing him sloppy and wet and hard and hungry all the time. Her panties don’t match the lace bra, they’re plain white and she knows they will soon be soaked through with her juices; she’s ashamed of being so turned on by this kid but at the same time she’s proud and pleased that he wants her so much, that he wants her body, that he wants her to enjoy this.

She is honey dripping wet, swollen and throbbing between her legs when she wakes up, cheeks burning red.

 

<> 

 

The Wards return to the stands. Sebastian refrains from winking at Cody but flashes a shy smile at her, and a few skating rounds later another, just a little bit less shy.

He throws a puck to Nolan over the glass and waves at him. A day later, when Cam lets his kids on the ice for a bit in the beginning of an optional skate, Sebastian circles around the boy and compliments his skating.

“Who do you think is the best player on the team?” the boy asks, and Sebastian looks pensively around the ice.

“He is pretty good”, he points at Cam, stretching by his goal on the other end of the ice. Nolan’s gaze follows his finger and his face lights up.

“That’s my dad!”

Sebastian widens his eyes and lifts his eyebrows. “Really? That’s cool! You must be very proud of him. Do you know what, Nolan? My best friend since kids in Finland grew up to be a goalie. We met in a skating school of our hometown hockey team when we were only two or three years old.”

 

And at home Cam is forced to dig out his phone, and reluctantly search for his young teammate’s Instagram, and holding back a sigh scroll through its sparse posts to reach the childhood photo Nolan has been asking about the whole day.

He tries to ignore his wife’s sly smirk. He has no idea why she’s suddenly torturing him like this.

 

“That couch is killing your back,” Cody says to Cam the next night, after the team has fought an overtime win from the Florida Panthers, “Maybe you should come sleep over here.”

She lays down on her back, under her own blanket, blond hair on one braid that circles her neck over her shoulder and rests on her chest.

Cam lounges on his side, props his head up with his forearm, watches her face.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says.

His wife looks intently at him. “You’re having a long road trip ahead,” she says. “Maybe it’s the chance for you two to talk things over.” She extends her finger and strokes the stubble on Cam’s narrow cheek. “I don’t want you to feel lonely. But if it leads to anything, be discreet, okay? Don’t hurt me. Don’t let it look like you can treat me like shit.” There’s steel in her eyes, in her voice and in the angle of her chin but Cam senses softness around the edges.

Cam feels prickling behind his eyelids. “I don’t deserve you,” he says in a husky voice.

“You’re right, you fucking don’t,” Cody says. Cam brushes her hair with his hand, his moves are hasty, emotional.

“Don’t hurt him, either”, Cody adds. “He’s a sweet kid.”

Cam gasps and leans in to kiss her. “Oh my god, Cody. The _world_ doesn’t deserve you.”

She pushes him back. “I mean a hoe but nice. Stupid enough to do more harm than he means to.”

“Don’t try to trick me into taking back my words, girl, because I won’t. You’re still a saint,” Cam says, and they kiss for real, for the first time in weeks.

 

<> 

 

The team leaves for Vancouver, the first destination of the trip, well in advance to adjust to the time difference. The first night is for team bonding and relaxing together, going out with the whole squad, a nice dinner and some good wines; big tables, laughs getting louder and simmering down to pleased smiles only to rise again like waves.

On the walk back to the hotel it’s easy to fall behind the group and into step with one another.

“I’ve missed talking to you,” Cam says to Sebastian.

“Okay,” Sebastian replies hesitantly. He keeps quiet, looks down at the pavement ahead of him for a couple of steps. “Me too,” he continues.

It’s a small victory for Cam it’s definitely there.

They continue pacing side by side, hands in their pockets against the chilly night, exchanging some meaningless words, falling slowly further and further behind.

When they reach the hotel lobby it’s empty, everyone dispersed to their rooms, like it was planned to go like this all along.

 

“I see you charming my wife and kids all over the place. What are you doing? Are you trying to get adopted?” Cam asks casually in the elevator just before it reaches their floor.

Sebastian chuckles. “What do you think?” he asks over his shoulder as he steps out to the carpeted hallway.

Cam follows him, Sebastian stops and turns around to face him, doesn’t step back when Cam almost bumps into him after the sudden turn. He stands in Cam’s personal space, not touching but within an intimate distance.

“You can’t adopt me,” he says, “It would be wrong.” He bites his bottom lip head bowed down, tilts his head slightly to look Cam in the eye from under his brows, a bit sideways. “You would be a criminal.”

Is _this_ where it’s headed now?

Cam isn’t sure if he should but plays along. He brushes one hand through Sebastian’s hair.

“What if we just don’t tell anyone?”

Sebastian squints and frowns, but smirks.

“Are you asking me to lie for daddy?”

Cam has never really understood people who are into this and it’s never occurred to him that he would be one of them but the way Sebastian says his words through a sly smirk lingering on his pink lips sends a rush of blood straight to his dick. His head spins, his skin tingles, his mouth feels dry and wet all at once.

“Would you?” he replies, "Would you keep daddy's secret?"

Sebastian’s feet shuffle another inch closer, he bows his head and presses his face to the crook of Cam’s chest and neck, a bit to the side, and nods his head repeatedly, face brushing Cam’s collarbone. Cam’s hand is still on his head, he feels the silky hair moving against it, under his touch, he slides his palm down to feel the smoothness of the back of the strong but slender neck.

He’s rock hard and he wants something done about it, soon.

“They gave me a single room for this town,” he whispers, “Care to come in?”

Sebastian nods again, skin of the back of his neck sliding up and down under the palm of Cam’s hand.

 

Cam guides his boy in, helps him out of his winter jacket.

“Bedtime, baby,” he says softly, “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

Sebastian obeys him easily, Cam watches him undress. Sebastian folds his clothes over the back of a chair, stands naked in the middle of the room like waiting Cam to give further instructions.

Cam sits on the edge of the only bed in the room, removes his shoes, undresses calmly. He extends his arms, then pats his knee on one hand. “C’mere, Sebastian,” he says.

Sebastian comes, strolls in soft steps, sits down as guided. Cam lands a warm hand on the nape of his neck, strokes it, from Sebastian's hairline down to between his shoulder blades.

Sebastian is naked and warm on his lap, thighs in right angle over his, feet dangling above the floor.

“Will you be my good boy? Will you show daddy your dick?”

 _This is so wrong_ , Cam thinks, and yet he can’t remember when he’s been more aroused. It’s like walking on crackling thin ice, his senses are heightened, every hair on his body standing like static electricity had charged his skin.

Sebastian gives him a perfectly shy look and takes his dick in his hand like he’d never done so before. It’s erect, Sebastian’s eyelids hood his eyes as he looks down at it, slowly he lifts his serious gaze back to Cam’s eyes.

“Good,” Cam says and pets Sebastian’s hair. “So pretty. Show me more of it, will you?”

Sebastian nods just barely, and pulls the foreskin cautiously back with the circle of two fingers, reveals the round, bulging head in all its glory, it’s reddish dark pink, edges of the sharp slit alive, like taking little breaths. Sebastian touches it warily with a fingertip of the other hand like a boy who’s just discovering the pleasure of playing with himself and looks deep in Cam’s eyes with a deceivingly innocent, cautious gaze.

“Like this?” he asks with the smallest, silkiest voice Cam has ever heard from him and Cam shivers. Trying to keep his cool is bordering painful, physically even, when Sebastian sits on the most aching, throbbing hard-on Cam has had for a while.

“Yes, baby boy, like that. You’re so good to daddy.”

Sebastian wiggles on his lap, ass pressing down on his hard-on, scouring it sideways. It’s _a lot_ , it’s too much, Cam wraps his hand around Sebastian’s to squeeze the boy’s cock, grapples the back of Sebastian’s head, draws him into a hungry, devouring kiss.

Sebastian turns around in Cam’s lap, coaxes one of his legs to the other side of his waist and wraps his arms around his neck. “Do you like me, daddy?” he mutters between the kisses, “Do you like your little boy?”

“Oh fuck, baby,” Cam breathes out hastily, “Oh yes, you’re too fucking hot.”

With those words he rolls Sebastian over onto the bed, pins him down with his body and hands and mouth, indulging in the feeling of hard cocks rubbing against each other, of Sebastian’s tongue snaking around his.

 

Cam breaks the kiss to watch Sebastian’s face under him, the boy breathes heavily from between parted, chafed red lips, his eyes twinkle with passion and mischief, lustful yet alert and sneaky.

“My boy is the hottest thing in the world,” he says, brushing Sebastian’s sprawling hair back from his clear forehead, “You make me want to fuck you so wrecked you can’t walk.”

“I’ll tell about you. Police will come and lock you up,” Sebastian giggles.

Cam keeps him pinned to the mattress, holds his hands by the wrists, crosses them on Sebastian’s chest, leans his chin over them.

“Do you want your daddy end up in jail?” he asks, furrowing his brows, which greatly contradicts the smile rippling on his lips.

“You deserve to be in jail,” Sebastian says and wiggles underneath him most teasingly.

Cam lifts himself on all fours above Sebastian. “I’ll teach you to talk like that, you little brat,” he says and rolls Sebastian over, manhandling him to his belly by his wrists and hip. He digs one hand in Sebastian’s hair and smacks another loudly down on his buttock. “There.”

Sebastian gasps and whines, but at the same time arches his back to push his ass up in a higher angle. Cam rubs reassuring circles in his scalp and smoothes his hand over the slapped spot.

“Did you deserve it, kid?” he asks in a soft, concerned voice.

“Yes, daddy,” Sebastian replies through a satisfied sigh, butting both his head and his ass to Cam’s hands like a pleased cat. Cam slaps him again, Sebastian winces but pushes back to his hand again.

 

It’s mesmerizing how willing Sebastian is to let him own his ass. Cam is crazy about it: he takes his time kneading the buttocks, spreads them with stern hands to expose his hole, goes on to massage and spread it with his thumb. Sebastian starts to whimper and moan and _beg_ , oh Christ, “ _Oh please do it Cam I want it please do it, fuck me”,_ and it sounds incredibly hot.

Hot enough to give the boy what he’s asking for.

 

Cam has what he needs to lube him up and push in, nothing fancy but it’s the world, it’s perfection. Sebastian trembles underneath him, pants eyes closed, tip of the tongue showing between the parted moist lips, his face is turned to the side, lower cheek pressed tight to the sheet, a damp drop of drool soaking into the cotton fabric. He’s so beautiful and young and tight; he’s the youngest of the team, their cute kid, their shining star, and all he wants is to call Cam daddy and have his cock up his ass; if that isn’t an undeserved gift Cam doesn’t know what is.

Cam fucks hard into the heat around his cock, lowers his torso over Sebastian’s back to kiss his neck. Sebastian’s body answers his thrusts, ass arching up to meet him, let him in deeper.

Sebastian growls and moans, fuck he’s hot when he’s so feisty and passionate, he loses his cool totally like he sometimes loses it on the ice, in the heat of the moment.

Sebastian yells Cam’s name loudly, huffs and moans out unintelligible noises.

 _“Oh, fuck, fuck yes, Cam,”_ oh dear baby, is he even real?

Yes he is, alive and real under him, around him.

 

Cam has no idea of how soundproofed the walls in this particular hotel are and it’s too late to check. Neither is he sure how badly Sebastian’s loud moaning, as pleasurable it is to hear, clashes with the concept of ‘discreet’.

Just in case, he fumbles to cover Sebastian’s face with his hand, searches the outline of his lips with his fingers and sticks his thumb in his mouth. Sebastian settles into sucking it, letting out only muted whimpers around it. It’s so good, the wet mouth, the tight ass, all the flawless skin sweating underneath him. Cam wants all of this sweet kid, he wants to wrap himself all over him and dissolve into him at the same time, ravish him, own him, explode inside him.

 

Sebastian is filled thick and deep, Cam’s weight blanketing his back and shoulders, his cock driving into him hard, hard enough for Cam’s balls to spank his from the force of each thrust. It’s intense and powerful, it’s what he needs, he whimpers his pure pleasure and emotion, salivating around the thumb in his mouth.

He feels good, he feels grounded.

He feels _home_.

 

 

 --

 

end of part one - to be continued

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad settles into living on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You noticed correctly - the overall number of chapters is now 3 instead of 2. I divided the rest of the story in two, partly because I wanted to make a Valentine's day post and this seemed like a good portion of dirty smut for that kind of use.
> 
> We are not yet in Nashville, folks; only getting from Vancouver to San Jose. My apologies.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

There may be some long looks or knowing smirks over breakfast but if Sebastian sees them he ignores them. He gathers his usual foods and sits down in a group of players, occasionally joining the chatter, mostly sitting in silence.

Between the breakfast and the bus ride to the morning training he pops in his room to move his bags over to Cam’s room, casually, head held high.

If Teuvo tries to ask something, Sebastian ignores it. Or maybe it’s the silent warning in his glare, when Teuvo as much as opens his mouth, that keeps his on-road roommate from saying anything more; no words would change a thing.

 

A new town, a new rink, an uncomfortable time zone, especially for someone who has only spent a part of his night actually sleeping – nuisances, sure, but Sebastian ignores all discomfort, all distraction.

Thorough stretching. Thorough warm-ups. Proper hydration. Ears on the coach, eyes on the puck, blades on the ice. No need to break the routine.

 

The skaters are listening to instructions on the other end of the ice, goalies by the goal in the other end. Cam follows the long gaze Scott Darling casts across the ice.

Sebastian.

“So,” the fellow goaltender says, returning his eyes at Cam’s face, “Goalie privileges? Nobody told me anything when I came in. Or is it just you?”

A menacing frown shadows Cam’s face. He reacts instantly. “Don’t even think. You don’t touch him. He’s mine,” he warns without hesitation, and a dark flash behind his eyes tells he’s serious.

 

<> 

_He’s mine._ That’s, fuck, _insane_. The clock is nearing midnight but Cam tosses himself from one side to another, sleep escaping from him, from his nagging thoughts.

Nobody says that kind of shit out loud. Nobody exposes themselves like that.

He glances over his shoulder. Sebastian is sound asleep after the training day, eyes shut tight. He wanted to hold Cam’s both hands in a loose grip when he dozed off, curled towards him like shielding from the outside world, forehead pressed to Cam’s chin, heartbreakingly resembling a small animal balled up for warmth and comfort; a kitten, a puppy, a stoat.

Cam turns again, faces Sebastian; watches the sleeping face, the gauzy hairs above the curving upper lip, the little scar below the corner of the mouth. Sebastian’s eyelids start to flutter, the eyes move under them, he wrinkles his nose and relaxes it again, puffs out a snorting sound. Cam wishes he could see inside his dreams.

Cam leans closer, he’d like to kiss Sebastian’s nose or forehead, ghosts over his face for a moment, but doesn’t dare to risk the boy’s peaceful slumber.  He extends his hand over Sebastian’s loosely curled fists, considers taking them in his but doesn’t dare to touch them, either.

He pulls Sebastian’s comforter higher over the bare shoulder. _Mine_ is the last thought in his mind before he drifts to sleep, right there, fingers clutching the fabric.

 

<> 

 

Darling starts in the early matinee game, and Cam wonders if it’s some kind of a punishment to be left as the back-up.

After a 3—0 loss he wonders who’s the one who was punished, in case it was a punishment after all.

 

Sebastian huffs and pouts the way he usually does after losses, when he’s still full of angry energy, when he isn’t just drained, curled inwards into a sulking little ball of hollow disappointment.

He doesn’t talk much on the bus ride back to the hotel, changes his suit to jeans in gloomy silence. Team dinner doesn’t do much to unwind him: he eats quickly, a couple of seats away from Cam.

He demands Cam’s attention as soon as they get back in the room. He pinches Cam’s sides through his shirt like a little pest, looks at him defiantly, teeth clenched tight, jutting his chin forward challengingly.

“What is it, old man?” Sebastian picks at him, taking little jabs at him with loosely curled fists, the glare in his eyes giving bitter edge to what seems like an attempt at playfulness, “Aren’t you joining the dance?”

Cam is finished hanging his coat – Sebastian has dropped his on the floor, he paces on the spot wearing a thin cable knit sweater, jeans and a black beanie, pushed back to reveal his hairline – and turns Sebastian’s way. They are still at the narrow entrance to the room, between coat cabinets and the bathroom door.

Cam stares at Sebastian firmly, like weighing his options. Finally he shakes his head lightly, accompanying the gesture with a heavy sigh.

“What do you want, Sebastian? What is this about?” he asks in a tired, scolding tone.

Sebastian keeps his defiant glare and pokes at Cam’s stomach.

Cam reacts in milliseconds. His abs flex, his hand is as quick as a lizard’s tongue and grabs Sebastian’s poking finger. He holds Sebastian’s hand in place between them, his grip is steel, deliberately hard; he uses it to push Sebastian backwards, walks him the few steps to the wall, pins him there.

“What are you doing, kid? What do you want?” Cam repeats his question. Sebastian turns his face to the side, bites the inside of his lip and cheek, looks away.

Cam lets Sebastian’s hand go, keeps pressing his shoulder to the wall with one hand, lifts the free hand to Sebastian’s head. He sweeps the beanie to the floor and grabs Sebastian’s chin, forces Sebastian’s face his way.

“Don’t make me repeat, son. What?” he demands. Sebastian stays silent, he even seems to purse his lips tighter in Cam’s grip.

Cam pushes a knee forward, coaxes it between Sebastian’s legs, deep enough to rub Sebastian’s crotch with his thigh. The fly of Sebastian’s jeans bulges to the touch, Sebastian makes a small involuntary noise from his closed mouth. Cam latches to it instantly.

“You said something?”

Sebastian looks like he’s finally going to speak but barely cracks his mouth open. Cam pushes his thigh further.

“Cam, I—“ Sebastian starts with a crumbled, barely audible voice. He glances quickly at Cam but drops his gaze just as quickly. He looks embarrassed. “Sorry,“ he mumbles.

Cam shifts closer, keeps his hold of Sebastian’s chin, turns the face back towards his. He is very close now, he can feel the movement of Sebastian’s breath between his body and the wall, the midriff rising and receding against his own.

“Look at me, Sebastian. Why are you sorry?” he asks in a soft voice.

Sebastian rises on tiptoe and gets level with Cam’s face and crotch. He looks Cam in the eye, the defiance is still there but it’s melting, the boy looks at him almost pleadingly. “I just want to forget. The game,” he says, “Please, Cam.”

The words come out rigidly, like it was hard for him to tell anything about his feelings. At the same time his body sends much more direct messages: he shuffles sideways, finding a slot where his bulging cock fits next to Cam’s, seeks touch through the fabric.

Cam could scold Sebastian, tell him he needs to fucking learn to open his mouth and speak but he won’t. Sebastian is usually so calm and collected, mature with his emotions, that Cam cherishes his crackling façade, the signs of vulnerability that he lets manifest in Cam’s presence like this, acting out his frustration like a kid.

Cam can handle that.

“Be careful with what you wish for”, he whispers, “I may make you forget more than that.” He closes the gap between their faces, forces Sebastian to keep standing on his toes, finds his lips for a kiss.

“The more the better,” Sebastian whispers into his mouth, passive, compliant, beautifully hard and shivering up against the wall.

 

Cam kisses Sebastian hard, hard enough to crash the back of his head to the wall. Sebastian follows the movement of his tongue and lips compliantly, lifting his hanging arms over Cam’s shoulders and wrapping them around his neck. The move gives Cam’s hands room to slide down Sebastian’s sides.

The hem of the knit sweater rises over the waistband of Sebastian’s jeans, conveniently for Cam’s fingers. He follows the edge of the waistline to the front, fingertips slowly sweeping the bare skin. He likes how Sebastian gasps and holds his breath when he feels the touch, the abs contracting for a moment; it gives Cam’s fingers just enough space to coax into the tight cranny between their bodies to reach the fly of Sebastian’s jeans.

He opens the button, unceremoniously unzips the jeans and digs out the hard cock, wraps his hand around it, jacks it with short squeezing tugs. Sebastian whimpers and sucks his tongue and pushes himself higher on tippy toes, legs ajar.

Cam slides his other hand around the waist, between the wall and the small of Sebastian’s back, down into the jeans and briefs. He follows the crack between the buttocks, Sebastian’s pelvis tight between his hands now. Sebastian trembles and whimpers, kisses him harder, almost desperately, mouth getting wetter and wetter, the scent of his body getting more intense, like he was breaking into a sweat.

 

Cam detaches his hands from Sebastian’s cock and ass, places them lightly on his shoulders and breaks the kiss. He shuffles half a step back, pressing Sebastian’s shoulders.

“Get down, babe,“ he says, the attempt at soft comes out harsher in his own ears than he intended to, but apparently it doesn’t bother Sebastian who kneels smoothly in the confined space between his legs and the wall.

Cam opens his pants and digs out his cock. It’s hard but not fully erect; he guides the head to Sebastian’s lips, the other hand on Sebastian’s chin. He pushes the chin down with his thumb, and the bottom lip with the tip of his cock and glides in Sebastian’s wet mouth as far as it goes.

Sebastian closes his lips around the shaft, licks it inside his mouth, creates a nice suction. Cam feels his cock growing but doesn’t pull back one bit, he’s going to fill his boy’s mouth as deep as Sebastian is willing to take it.

Sebastian makes a short gagging noise but deals with it, adjusting with slight turns of his head from side to side. He takes a sharp breath through his nostrils, sucks back a brief burst of cough, swallows around the crown of Cam’s cock, mouth wet and hot and slippery.

Cam lets his hand slide under Sebastian’s jaw, feels his throat and the root of his tongue work under the skin. Sebastian’s hands are on Cams thighs, he clings to the fabric of his trousers for support, his hard cock still sticks out from  the open fly, rubs to the inside of Cam’s shin.

Sebastian makes a gagging and snorting sound again, the back of his tongue sinks under Cam’s cock. Tears press out of the corners of his eyes and clear glistening fluid pools to the bottom of his nostrils.

Cam pulls back to let him take a breath.

“You okay, baby?” he asks, and Sebastian nods, blows upwards to get strands of hair off his face and takes a quick breath, licks his lips wet  and puts his mouth on Cam’s cock again. Cam keeps his hands on Sebastian’s neck and hair, looks down on the closed wet eyes, the determined little face, the red circle of lips around his pumping cock.

“So pretty, kid,” he breaths out, “taking me so good.”

Sebastian barely has space to do it, but he responds to Cam’s rhythm, bobbing and rocking his head against the wall, pumping the shaft with his lips, licking with the whole length of his tongue.

Cam fucks his face, fucks into the mouth, digging his fingers in the hair, feeling the throat with his hand, tips of his thumb and fingers just under Sebastian’s jawline, larynx just under the palm of his hand, and Sebastian – he’s incredibly responsive, clawing at the back of Cam’s thighs, pressing and rubbing his cock to his leg.

 _So quick-and-dirty but so amazingly good, fast and easy but what a fucking bliss, we should do this everywhere_. The thought flashes through Cam’s head, floods his brain with flesh-like images, this gorgeous kid on his knees in locker room showers, upscale restaurant restrooms, cramped filthy airplane toilets, behind a closed door in his own home, a quick escape from the kids’ birthday party…

It takes Cam by surprise, how unexpectedly quickly his body reacts. All of a sudden it creeps in, pools up inside him, empties his brain and sends the blood flow from his head to his groin instead, tingling in his balls, building unbearable pressure to the root of his cock.

No warning, no pulling back. And, in the end, no fucking regrets whatsoever, no need.

Sebastian’s eyelids flutter and crack open when Cam starts to shoot his load to the back of his mouth. His brown eyes dart up at him, but he doesn’t try to back off. It’s beautiful, Cam watches it through a disoriented haze, leaning to the wall with both hands. Realizing only after a moment to have the courtesy to bend his hips back.

The last few drops drip on Sebastian’s lip when he lets the cock retreat slowly out of his mouth, coughing on the aftereffect of being choked. Matted hair flops onto his face when he bows his head to clear his throat, covering his eyes.

Cam catches his breath, slowly straightening his back, still leaning to the wall with one hand.

Sebastian licks his lips, wipes his nose with the back of his hand, flicks his hair back and blinks repeatedly to banish excess moisture from his eyelashes. He gets up from the floor in slow movements, strands of hair falling back over his face, letting life seep back in his limbs, looking at Cam who backs off to give him room to move.

Sebastian follows his steps, tight jeans stay up even though the waist hangs open. When Cam stops, Sebastian cups his head with both hands, stroking his scalp through the short hair. Cam looks him in the eye breathing heavily, stands still, lets Sebastian make his move.

Sebastian attacks, leans in and up, crashes his lips on Cam’s into a needy, frantic kiss. Cam can taste himself in Sebastian’s mouth but it only revs him up again, in a way it makes Sebastian feel even more as his own.

 _Mine._ He would say it, purr in Sebastian’s ear right now how hot and sweet he is, his good boy, but the good boy’s mouth keeps him well occupied. He doesn’t mind, it’s exactly where he wants to be. The lips, the tongue, the taste; the clashing, nibbling, scraping teeth, short frantic breaths, the luxuriously smooth face rubbing against his.

 

Cam slides his hands under Sebastian’s sweater to strip it off him; Sebastian takes the hint and does the same with Cam’s. Cam waltzes them towards the bed, sets Sebastian on the mattress, helps him out of his shoes and jeans, undresses his own.

He grabs Sebastian by the waist, shifts him to the middle of the bed; he caresses his arms, all the way from his armpits to his hands, stretches them wide above his head; goes back down his body, the glorious tight package of defined muscle, traces the outline of Sebastian’s chest and abs, kissing and licking.

Cam does not make a stop at Sebastian’s cock, temptingly heavy and hard, purple arrow head leaking glistening drops on the pale belly, and Sebastian lets out a protesting moan. “ _Oh, Cam, please_ ,” he whimpers, but keeps his hands above his head.

Cam crawls lower towards the foot of the bed, gets between Sebastian’s legs, spreading them apart with his hands on bent knees. He kisses the inside of each thigh in their turn, starts a slow hike upwards, cherishing the way Sebastian shakes when he sucks his sensitive skin, leaving behind bright pink circles that will probably darken into maroon bite marks before dawn.

Sebastian tries to trash and squirm but Cam holds him in place. He’s wandering closer to the meeting point of Sebastian’s thighs, and gives a wide, wet lick to the crease next to Sebastian’s scrotum and the boy moans and curses in Finnish.

He’s so pretty like this, already dried one set of tears from his eyes tonight, now flushed and sweating, desperate for touch, for release, cock bobbing above his lower belly whenever he moves.

Cam locks Sebastian’s hips to the mattress with his hands.

“Stay calm, okay?” he says, only to get desperately muted moan as an answer.

He thinks he’s done teasing. He wants it as much as Sebastian does, to taste his cock, to feel its weight in his mouth.

He crawls closer on all fours, bows down and gives it a long lick that elicits a gasped _“Yes”_ from Sebastian. He wraps his hand around the base and drags his tongue up the shaft again, goes on to give fluttering little licks in areas he knows to be sensitive and yes, Sebastian responds. He starts moaning out fast little O _h_ ’s and his hands shoot to his sides, clutching the sheets.

Cam sinks the head of Sebastian’s cock in his mouth and feels a shift on the bed. He looks up to see how Sebastian props his head up with his elbows and gazes lustfully down at him.

He makes eye contact, and Sebastian’s eyes flash with dark sex-haze, maybe a little sly.

“That looks so hot,” Sebastian says. “My daddy making me feel so good.”

Cam almost wants to slap him to shut him up but would never. Whatever sweet filth Sebastian spews out of his mouth, it only enhances the experience for the both of them.

Cam leaves the cock with a kiss and lowers his head between Sebastian’s thighs. He licks between Sebastian’s balls and thigh and shushes him.

“Shh, kid. Let daddy do the work,” he whispers and gives another lick to the other side, ends the sweeping motion with a suckling little kiss on the base of Sebastian’s cock. The boy’s labored breath is a sweet gratification.

Cam wets his thumb in his mouth and sucks Sebastian’s cock back in. He fondles the balls with is wet finger and traces the thin skin to his hole. He teases the rim with the pad of his thumb while his mouth works on Sebastian’s cock, drinking the oozing precum with the tip of his tongue. He eats him deeper, lips sliding up and every time further down, inches the thumb in deeper and sees from the corner of his eye how Sebastian throws his head back, neck arching, fingers clawing at the sheets, knuckles white, chest and neck and earlobes flushed with pink patches.

His breathy, whining moan rises to a wailing scream. As pleasurable as it is to hear, Cam has to try and tell him to keep his voice down. “Seb, please. There are people in other rooms.”

“I- I can’t Cam! Oh fuck, do – keep doing it! You’re so _good_!” Sebastian yelps in nearly desperate bursts between frantic gasps, and Cam is tempted to take back his words and ask him to repeat it. Maybe even _one_ _louder_.

But he doesn’t say that, either, instead he lets Sebastian’s cock sink back deep in his mouth, wiggles his thumb inside Sebastian’s butt and listens to the final sounds of pleased growling that gradually modulate into a stretching, whimpering moan as Sebastian comes inside his mouth.

Cam swallows some but not all, letting the standing cock pop out of his mouth still ejaculating the last strings of cum that land on Sebastian’s stomach.

He rises higher on his hands and knees, licks his lips and crawls slowly over Sebastian, bracketing his boneless body underneath him. He reaches down with his hand to smooth the slippery substance into Sebastian’s skin. The boy looks achingly beautiful, catching his breath, arms resting relaxed each side of his head, eyelashes damp with fresh tears, mouth curving into a satisfied smile.

Cam licks the palm of his hand and leans down to give Sebastian a slow, soft, deep kiss. Sebastian kisses him back eyes closed, hands resting on the bed, mouth wide open, letting their warmth and taste mix into one another, accepting fully whatever Cam has for him.

 

<> 

 

In the morning Sebastian wakes up earlier than he usually does, feeling rested despite the time zone difference still having its effect on him.

It’s the third morning in a row that he has woken up next to Cam. He’s still not fully used to it, in a way it is just as surreal an experience as before, like he had woken up only partly, from a dream to another dream, into an alternative reality.

And, at the same time, it’s unmistakably real, perfectly natural and simply – awesome.

Sebastian is usually a slow starter in the morning but now he feels nothing but energetic and happy; he can’t wait to face the day. He slips quietly out of the bed – let Cam get his sleep until the alarm goes off – brushes his teeth and showers, smiling when he looks down and spots the rows of hickeys on his upper thighs.

He _loves_ his life.

 

Cam hears movement in the room through his sleep but drifts back into the sweet nothingness of slumber. He is awakened again by a whiff of cool morning air breezing under his comforter when Sebastian lifts it and slips in next to him.

Cam feels soft lips on his, smells soap and toothpaste up close. He doesn’t even open his eyes, concentrates on savoring the feeling, the languid open mouth, wet and alive, the hand on the back of his neck, fingertips of the other hand slowly drawing gentle curves on his scalp and forehead.

He slides his hands around Sebastian’s waist and pulls him closer, because what could be a better way to start the day than morning sex. A promising hard-on presses to his hipbone, rewarding his move.

He _loves_ his life.

 

<> 

 

By silent mutual agreement they keep their cool on team time, avoid sitting together at the table, keep their eyes off each other in the locker room and in the different practice spaces allocated to visiting teams in the host rinks.

They choose their seats in the airplane far from each other, like it was an offering before the gods of common courtesy.

The only thing they just don’t bother pretending about are the rooming arrangements.

When Cam waits for his room keys in the next hotel, Sebastian stands patiently in close proximity behind him.

“716. That’s on a different floor from the rest of your squad but I hope you don’t mind. If it’s a problem we can try to come up with something,” the receptionist says to Cam, handing him the little folder of keycards.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” Cam says, taking the keys and turning to leave. Justin Williams gives him a sidelong look from his spot at the next counter and turns his head further to glance at Sebastian. He raises an eyebrow as he returns his gaze to Cam.

“Nice work,” Justin says, “who did you bribe?”

Cam doesn’t gratify him with an answer. He grabs his suitcase and heads out towards the elevators. Sebastian follows in his wake, his dark brown eyes looking assertively at Justin over his shoulder as he passes him.

The last thing that Cam notices from the corner of his eye before turning at a corner is Justin shaking his curly head by the counter.

 

Justin’s look bothers Cam more than he’d like to acknowledge. It doesn’t feel that Williams is disapproving, which is a relief. Mr. Game seven has the kind of authority that his mood and attitude easily rubs off throughout the locker room, whether he tries consciously to convert others to share his views or not.

Still, Cam hates the idea that anyone, _anyone_ , would look down on Sebastian as a consequence of his actions.

Sebastian wheels his suitcase into a convenient slot next to the generic cabinets, and Cam lifts his on the luggage rack. He gently cups Sebastian’s shoulders, helps his coat off him and hangs it. Sebastian toes off his shoes and kicks them neatly to the side, next to the wall.

Cam places his hand on the nape of Sebastian’s neck and massages it warmly.

“Did you hear Willy over there? Asshole,” he says, aiming at casual.

Sebastian shrugs. “I don’t care,” he says flatly.

Cam frowns and looks him in the eye. “Sebastian, I don’t want anyone to disrespect you.”

Sebastian chuckles and straightens his back. “I’ll make them respect me,” he says assertively.

In one transfixing moment Cam knows that it’s true. His eyes soften, he gives the back of Sebastian’s neck a comforting squeeze before hanging his own jacket.

“I know you will,” he says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at Sebastian.

Sebastian turns around and inches close to him again. He slides his hands under Cam’s shirt, fingers his bare skin and gives him a coy look from under his brows.

“And my daddy won’t let them be mean to me.”

_Oh sweetheart, will you ever cease to seduce me?_

“You’re right. I won’t. Anyone. Ever.”

 

<> 

 

The squad settles into living on the road.

It takes the first couple of games, but little by little they transition into living in a liminal space, walking down arena corridors to different visitors’ locker rooms, eating at restaurants and sleeping in hotels until the places melt into each other. The details that at first seem to make each new place distinct, unique, soon make them seem even more the same, dissolve into the tapestry of road trip life.

Travel becomes background noise, the white static from which hockey stands out.

Even on the road you have to attach emotionally to something, have something to hold on to, to call home. When the places are constantly replaced by the next one, they turn towards the irreplaceable, towards each other. The team becomes the temporary home, teammates and staff an ad hoc family.

Homes and families are, of course, only one phone call or FaceTime away, but it’s not the same to look at your loved ones on the screen, dimensions distorted by the small camera lens. It’s a poor substitute for the real thing, a tiny window to a distant parallel reality.

So they lean towards the real, towards the flesh and bone around them. They make a virtue out of necessity: getting to know each other better because each other is all they have, using the opportunity to build up team spirit because anybody who is around is in the team.

The ad hoc family members start slowly finding their places around their makeshift on-the-road home. They start to know whose room is the one with the PlayStation, who’s the one to gather a group around him for card games. Who need their peace and quiet and undisturbed sleep schedule; who hosts movie nights with more bad jokes, hollering at the screen and spilling popcorn around than actually watching the movie.

 

Willy’s remark has emphasized it to Cam: He and Sebastian need to be cautious to maintain the balance in the team. It’s not only a question of protecting Sebastian’s reputation, or his own. It’s about protecting everyone: they must gingerly avoid situations where anyone around might feel uncomfortable.

 _Be discreet_. That is another reason: to hang to the last remnants of filling Cody’s request, despite the suspicion that he’s only kidding himself.

 

In San Jose Sebastian tells that Teuvo has asked him to hang out.

“They’re going to some Ice cream shop or something with the Swedes,” Sebastian says and Cam encourages him to go.

“That sounds great, you totally should,” he says.

“Aren’t you coming?” Sebastian asks.

Cam shrugs. “He hardly meant me.”

“You can’t know that,” Sebastian says and is already digging out his phone, “I’ll ask.”

Cam waves his hands to interrupt him. “Woah, hold on, Sebastian.” He cups Sebastian’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “It’s better the guys don’t start to think us two as a package deal. I mean, this –“ he gestures around them, around the shared room, with one hand, the other still on Sebastian’s shoulder  “—is a lot already. You need to keep different circles of friends in your life.”

Sebastian wrinkles his nose, looks away and back at Cam. “As a precaution? ‘Cos you’ll dump me eventually?”

Cam frowns. “No.” he shakes his head, looks solemnly at Sebastian. “You can’t think that, Sebastian. I don’t mean it that way. And I have no intention to give up on you as long as you like doing this.” He massages Sebastian’s shoulders with both hands, bows his head to look him straight in the eye. “I just want to keep some balance in our lives. And in the team. We can’t isolate from the others. That’s what this is about. Balance.”

Sebastian nods, eyes cast down. “I get it,” he says rigidly. The boy hates being wrong, that’s for sure.

Or then he still has his suspicions. _That_ thought makes Cam sigh. He draws Sebastian in a hug, rocks him from side to side and gives him a kiss on the top of his head.

“You go hang out with them, okay? I’ll go shopping for something for the kids. If I leave it for the end of the trip I’ll be so zoned out I’ll forget.”

“Sure,“ Sebastian mumbles from his embrace.

 

Anaheim would be so much better for shopping, Cam realizes, when he has spent fifteen minutes pacing around a nearby mall and is still empty handed. In their last California stop there would be Disney toys and merch lurking around every corner, but in the Sharks home town nothing interesting has yet caught his eye.

A shop sign with the word “toy” almost fools him until he looks again. The sleek, well-lit, tidy retail space certainly doesn’t sell children’s toys, but Cam pops in. After all, there’s always Anaheim.

He goes past lingerie and wigs, eyes at colorful silicone butt plugs, gives a slightly longer consideration at a ball gag, stifling a chuckle at the memory of the sounds Sebastian makes when he comes. He stops at a shelf that holds a selection of lubes, spends some time comparing the labels, grabs a large bottle and a couple of smaller tubes.

“Would you like anything more, sir?” a pink-haired girl at the cashier asks. There are some edible novelty whips on the counter, at discount. Cam smiles at her and shakes his head.

“No thanks”, he says. His fingers are already on his credit card but he flips the wallet and digs out cash. “I have all I need.”

 

Sebastian comes in late, the guys have discovered a game room in the hotel and had a laugh (and probably fiercer competition than the laughter gives out) around some old arcade racing games and pinball machines, and it’s good. Cam has had time to talk to his family.

Cody didn’t ask him about Sebastian and it’s a relief. He doesn’t want to lie if she wants to know if they’ve had the chance to talk things over. To be exact, they _have_ had the _chance_ but Cam feels they have jumped straight to the _if it leads to something_ part of the scenario without much negotiation at all.

Sebastian enters the room quietly, with not much more than a click of the electric lock, toes off his shoes, sits neatly on the bed next to Cam who leans back to the headboard and turns to his stomach in one composed, elegant twirl. He puts his hand on Cam’s stomach, slides it down to get under his t-shirt, strokes his skin, plays with any fine hair he finds with his fingertips.

“You got what you needed?” Sebastian asks.

“Depends”, Cam says. “Got some new lube for us. But not the gifts for my kids.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Show me,” he says enthusiastically.

Cam reaches for the discreetly all black plastic bag on the bedside. Sebastian doesn’t pull his hand away, it slides sideways across Cam’s waistline as he turns, back and forth, and the touch sends signals down to Cam’s cock.

God, everything about Sebastian sends signals down to Cam’s cock by now. He’s just… irresistible.

Cam turns to his side facing Sebastian and places the bag on the bed between them. He digs out the purchases, stacks them in a neat row on the sheet and puts the bag away behind his back. Sebastian’s hand is under his shirt, it slides to his ribcage, to the back; Sebastian uses it as a lever to pull himself closer and lean in for a kiss.

“Sweet,” Sebastian says, licking his lips as he breaks from the kiss and starts pushing Cam’s t-shirt further up to force him to undress it, “I guess we have use for them.”

 

“I almost bought a ball gag for you,” Cam says when the clothes are on the floor where they belong and Sebastian is where he belongs, sprawled on the bed below him, beaming a dark smile at Cam who brackets him on his hands and knees both sides of his naked body.

Sebastian wiggles, the sides of his thighs rub at Cam’s. “Mmm. Daddy wants to shut me up. It’s kinda hot.”

“You think so?”

“Well… yeah! I guess?” Sebastian looks at him quizzically, the excitement twinkling in his eyes. “You can’t handle anyone hearing how hard you fuck me and how good it makes me feel.” He bites his lip, spreads his legs as wide as he can, they press heavy to the insides of Cam’s knees. He looks at Cam, stroking his own cock. “My daddy’s giant cock making me scream.”

Cam hums in agreement but gives a disapproving glance at Sebastian’s cock-stroking hand. The disapproval doesn’t come naturally, it takes a great deal of self-control not to let this little tease indulge in his endearingly shameless seek for pleasure.

“Stop touching yourself,” Cam says anyway.

“What?” Sebastian asks, distracted.

“Paws off the wee-wee, kid,” Cam says softly, enhancing his words by gently grabbing Sebastian’s hand and lifting it next to his pillow.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says, eyes steady and suddenly coy at Cam’s, “it’s yours.”

Cam’s smile softens again, corners of his eyes crinkling to a bunch of laugh lines. “That’s my good boy. I’ll take care of you.”

He lowers himself on top of Sebastian, chest on his chest, stomach on his stomach, straddling Sebastian’s hips, thighs spread wide. He strokes Sebastian’s hair, studies his face with fond eyes before softly starting to kiss him. Sebastian closes his eyes as he answers the kiss, the fluttering eyelashes remind Cam of a butterfly.

Cam moves his hands down from the hair, down the firm smooth skin on the tight little body. He can slide his hands as low as the sides of the hips before his own thighs are in the way, and Sebastian reciprocates the touch by rocking his hips underneath him, grinding his erect cock against him, against his, and Cam makes involuntary little noises only to have them swallowed in the kiss. He could come from this alone, they both could, it has happened a few times before.

Sebastian’s eyes open, they smile like Cam’s moaning amuses him. Cam breaks from the kiss, rubs his lips together, rises on his elbows and knees. He crawls backwards, down Sebastian’s body, breaking the eye contact only after a warm smile, leaving a trail of kisses on his jawline and neck, chest and stomach.

As he gets low enough, he lifts Sebastian’s legs, guides them apart and gets between them. Bending Sebastian’s knees on his hands, he lifts and spreads his thighs as wide as they easily go – Sebastian is, as a diligent stretcher, flexible in his joints; it’s easy to get everything between his strong thighs on generous display under watchful eyes and an eager mouth.

Now is the right time for Cam to reach for one of his new lubes.

“If this burns, say so, okay? It shouldn’t but it’s flavored,“ he says and Sebastian hums in agreement.

Cam squeezes some fragrant gel straight from the tube on Sebastian’s balls and perineum. As soon as Sebastian’s skin warms it, it gets runny, trickles in all the small wrinkles on the thin skin. Cam puts the bottle away and bows down for a lick; the substance is vanilla scented and flavored, the taste is artificial, tacky, but he loves how slippery it makes the area around Sebastian’s hole, it’s totally different to start eating eat his ass out when it’s so wet, spreading for his mouth almost like a soaked pussy.

He licks wide hot laps over the hole. Sebastian’s moans sound muffled; Cam lifts his head and sees him having gathered some of the comforter over his face, biting into the edge. He smiles and goes on, driving the tip of his tongue inside the softened rim, spreading it with both thumbs, supporting Sebastian’s thighs up with his arms. The comforter-muted moans escape in high-pitched whimpers and Christ, Cam could listen to it forever. The kid is beyond cute.

Cam pushes a finger in to accompany the tongue and Sebastian abandons his comforter. “ Oh _fuck_ please”, he wails in a wobbling voice, and Cam pushes deeper, finger of one hand inside to the knuckle, thumb of another spreading the swollen rim to make room for his probing tongue. Sebastian seems to struggle to hold his bent legs up, they are tense to the verge of trembling, toes curling like trying to clutch the musk-dripping, vanilla-scented, sex-thick air.

No way is Cam going to finish him like this. He sits up, lets Sebastian rest his legs on the bed and picks up the largest unopened lube. Text on the side of the bottle makes liberally captioned promises: _DoubleXxtra_ , _SuperSlippy, LongLasting._

He pops the cap open and spreads some drops on his cock. Sebastian’s eyes focus on the move of his hands; he licks his lips and lifts his gaze back at Cam, eyes dark, foggy and droopy, and Cam is ready to give him what he’s asking for.

It is easy to push in. Sebastian is ready to be fucked, ready to be bent twofold, eager to wrap one leg over Cam’s shoulder, other around his waist. Cam leans near, chest so close he can feel Sebastian breathing; he anchors himself balls deep, pulls back only to push in again, accelerates. He rocks his hips to a fast pumping motion, in an out, pummeling Sebastian’s ass, nailing him hard.

The softness of Sebastian’s balls presses to the base of his cock, Sebastian’s erection butts to his lower abs, Sebastian’s heel spurs his buttock, muscled thigh rubs against his ribcage.

He breaths in the scent of Sebastian’s skin, breathes out heated gibberish. He mumbles it groggily into Sebastian’s neck and ear until he finds his mouth and spills his words there, between kisses, nibbling, biting, eventually not much more than sloppy panting against another pair of parted lips.

He feels Sebastian shudder, his mouth whimper pleadingly, demandingly, against his own. Sebastian squirms like in heat, his hands roam bewildered over Cam’s back, trying to find something to hold on to, settle to clutch the nape of Cam’s neck and claw at his upper back. He shakes from sobbing until his body tenses and freezes, clenches around Cam’s cock.

Cam kisses him through it, through the shudders and tears, through the warm wetness erupting between their bodies, one hand cupping Sebastian’s buttock, the other laced with his hair. Where his own body is, he has stopped caring, forgotten all conscious thought; his hips rock on their own accord, into the sweet, slick-hot pressure around his cock, he wouldn’t wonder if the two of them were melding into one; he would wonder if they weren’t.

Sebastian clings to him through it, arms and legs wrapped around him. Cam empties in streams inside him, toes trampling the sheets, dug firmly in the bunched fabric to thrust as deep in his boy as possible.

All the colors in the world, white-hot nothingness.

Cam surfaces to reality when Sebastian chuckles at his lips and pushes his chest.

“You’re heavy,” Sebastian hums to him, softly, through a sated smile.

Cam wants to stay like this, anchored to Sebastian with his softening dick but he knows he has to let go, the kid must be sore already. He rolls reluctantly to his side and notices Sebastian wiping his cheeks and blinking his moist eyes.

“I came so hard I cried. S’weird,” Sebastian says, looking suddenly mildly abashed.

Cam cups his cheek and wipes gently under his eye with his thumb. “Does it happen often?”

Sebastian shakes his head, the little he can master between Cam’s hand and the pillow. “Never before.”

A rush of warmth washes through Cam’s chest. _Oh sweetheart._ Sebastian is so heartachingly young, so much yet ahead for him.

_How have I ever deserved this?_

_Everything about you overwhelms me._

“That’s huge, Seb. I’m honored.”

A small smile ripples on Sebastian’s lips. “I – “ he starts and his face shuts down, “I’m glad you are.”

Cam kisses the high ridge of his cheekbones and tastes salt, brushes his lips over the eyelids, already drooping drowsily.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,“ he whispers. “Good night, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s lips seem to form the words _good_ night but all that comes out is a sleepy hum, followed by a stream of steady breath.

 

The new lube is awesome, it stays wet forever. Cam notices it when he wakes up and shuffles on his side under Sebastian’s comforter, to spoon his sleeping lover.

He nuzzles Sebastian’s neck with his chin, rubs his stubbled cheek on Sebastian’s.

Sebastian wakes up, turns his head to catch a kiss. At the same time he arches his back to push his behind to Cam. Cam places his hand on Sebastian’s hip, and he wiggles sideways to rub against the touch. It’s a nice signal and if it’s meant for Cam’s cock it does get the message immediately.

Cam slides his hand on the glorious curve of Sebastian’s buttock, between his asscheeks, to find his hole wet, a bit loose on the rim because it hasn’t been too many hours since the intense round of vigorous fucking.

“Hmmh,” Sebastian sighs and pushes his ass to his hand.

Cam sucks his earlobe and whispers “You never get tired, do you?” into the ear, and Sebastian answers with a pleased chuckle, reaching around his neck, rubbing it warmly.

Cam lifts Sebastian’s upper leg with his hand and slides slowly inside him, easing almost to a pause at the tight spots. He starts moving, drinking up the pleased sighs he almost feels as much as hears, cheek pressed tight over the side of his lover’s neck.

The climax is pleasant, almost gentle, like a sweet summer rain pouring down in a sudden shower.

“This is like being on a fucking honeymoon,” Cam chuckles into Sebastian’s hairline on the back of his neck.

“You would know,” Sebastian mumbles into his pillow, a hint of bitter edge leaking in his sex-sluggish voice.

Cam can’t come up with an answer, but he wraps his hands around Sebastian and draws him in a tight embrace, until he can’t tell the rhythms of their breath from each other.

 

There are distinct spaces in the makeshift on-the-road home that the Carolina Hurricanes inhabit on their road-trip, the rooms everyone recognizes as special. Along with the PlayStation room, the card game room and the movie night room, another nickname is slowly catching on.

It hasn’t yet reached every pair of ears, and the residents of the said room are probably, as usual, the last ones to hear. Still, there is no mistaking: everyone knows which room is the Honeymoon Room.

 

 ---

 

end of part two - to be continued

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all feedback welcome, including critique and corrections (but be nice, don't make me cry the bad way okay?).
> 
> I hope to make the last installment sooner but life is life and this time I'm too cautious to make any promises.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This isn’t bad, it’s worse. Those two idiots think they are in love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> This end chapter grew up a godzilla, over twice as long as the previous ones. I would have had a chance to cut it in two, but the place would have been in a spot that has Sebastian in an emotional low point and I didn't want to leave you guys with an angsty cliffhanger with feelings of betrayal and abandonment.  
> There are desperate, sad and awkward moments in this chapter. There is clumsy underage (by U.S. drinking laws) drunkenness, there is a consensual but graphic spanking scene so... be prepared and enjoy the ride.

 

 

Cam wonders if trying to travel far apart from Sebastian is ridiculous or necessary. He feels eyes on the back of his neck but apart from Darling and Williams nobody has still said anything about the two of them.

Perhaps it’s only appropriate that the next one to talk is the head coach. Bill Peters falls into step with Cam after their next flight, on the walk from the arrivals gate to the bus.

He clears his throat to get Cam’s attention and glances around before he speaks, dropping a fast string of words like he always does, now in lowered voice.

“I’m hearing you have a thing going on with Seabass there”, he says and gives the goalie a sidelong glance under furrowed brows. “I mean, I’m not judging, as long as it works for you guys, whatever.” He shrugs slightly. “Just make sure you don’t break anything.”

Cam, taken off guard, can’t come up with a coherent answer. He mumbles something he hopes sounds agreeable.

 

<> 

 

He is not sure what makes the coach decide to give him the subtle heads-up at this point. Have they been taking their thing, as Peters calls it, too far? Has he been rocking the boat, contradicting his own advice on the importance of balance?

On their second night in San Jose Cam took Sebastian out, just the two of them. Maybe it has bothered someone that they did it on a game night, maybe it was worse that it was after a loss, but on the other hand, there was no group activity planned, either.

Sebastian had tried his hardest to give Cam his 300th win, scoring two goals, and Cam would never say it out loud to his teammates but hadn’t it been for his saves in the third, the game would never have stretched to the OT and they wouldn’t even have grabbed that one point.

Cam figured that not only did they deserve a date – they needed it. At least he did.

San Jose was the nearest spot to the Wine Country, not only on their road trip but of all possible NHL game towns. And he knew a secluded, romantic little restaurant that had a direct connection to a good winery he knew well enough to appreciate.

They had an excellent tasting menu, kitchen open past midnight, and a table for two in a rooftop garden booth (infrared radiators and blankets in case the winter night air gets nippy, the website said), away from all other customers, and a reservation had just been cancelled that morning so yes, it was available. Would Mr. Ward like to have it?

Mr. Ward thought it sounded like it was meant to be and saw no reason to fight fate.

 

The restaurant had a wine bar and bistro on the street level, but they were seen upstairs. The building had a large rooftop terrace where stucco columns held up a leafy pergola. Cam saw people outside large sliding windows but the waiter guided him and Sebastian past them, through a small hall, out a separate doorway to a smaller balcony, an alcove around the corner from the main terrace. Vines climbed up its walls, fairy lights twinkling amongst the green leaves.

Sebastian settled into the space with a pleased ease. He glanced around the décor, the sprawling cityscape behind the iron railing while sitting down across the small table and smirked demurely at Cam.

“Nice,” he said, giving another once-around at the leafy roof over his head, returning his gaze at Cam’s eyes. “You’re a romantic.”

The warmth in Sebastian’s even normally soft voice lowered it almost into a purr, and Cam was half ready to sweep the table to the side and drown the boy in kisses. Hadn’t the first courses been brought in front of them at that moment, he might have done so.

In the team’s everyday life Cam never saw Sebastian show particular enthusiasm for what he ate. The young player’s approach was quite practical, the usual pro athlete stance to one of the necessities of life: food was fuel, nutrition; it provided energy and building blocks for his body to function and improve the way it needed to.

The night provided a pleasant contrast.

The food was very Mediterranean. Cam hadn’t studied the food philosophy of the restaurant too closely – he’d been more preoccupied with their wine selection – but he would have placed the flavor combinations to northern Italy, maybe southern France.

Sebastian wasn’t picky; he took in the taste of vegetables and herbs, raw fish marinated in grappa.

He got embarrassed when Cam complimented his remarks of the wines they’re having. He had commented the subtle changes in taste that he noticed between the first sip and drinking it again after eating a bite of food, and compared a couple of wines to some European ones he remembered he had enjoyed earlier.

“I don’t really know anything about it. I just know what I like.”

Cam smiled, swirling the wine in his glass. “That’s all you really need to know, Sebastian. When you do, you can start finding out why you like it.”

The look Sebastian gave him after that, over the rim of his glass taking the next slow sip, was enough to make him melt.

Service was slow. There were pauses between the courses; maybe the secluded table wasn’t situated very ideally for the waiting staff. It didn’t bother Cam one bit. On the contrary, it was quite nice to be left alone for periods of time: to talk quiet nothings, to flirt with looks and touches.

The waiter apologized for the delay when he appeared with their desserts and the accompanying sweet wines.

“Would you like anything else, Mr.Ward? Coffees?”

Sebastian shook his head just barely and Cam took the hint.

“No, we’re fine. I could take the check, please, any time soon.”

As soon as the waiter left, Sebastian stood up from his chair and strolled over to Cam. He stopped by his side and fluidly lifted his leg over him; Cam pushed his chair back to give Sebastian room to straddle him.

Sebastian lowered himself to his lap, keeping most of his weight cautiously on his feet. He cupped Cam’s cheeks with both hands and gave him a deep filthy kiss that felt like pure sex.

Cam grabbed handfuls of the sweet ass but Sebastian didn’t go on much longer. He curled neatly back to his seat and started eating his dessert, licking the spoon. And, like it wasn’t enough, extended his hand over the table to dip his finger in Cam’s pudding and sucked it off, eyes never leaving Cam’s.

Cam smiled at him. “You dirty little thing,” he said. “You must stop being so damn cute all the time.”

Sebastian looked at him, fake innocence in his smirk. “You think I’m cute, Mr. Ward?” he mimicked the way the waiter had addressed Cam.

“You know you are. But I don’t mind, I can tell it to you every day.”

“Will you tell it to me with your dick, Mr. Ward?”

Cam did, as soon as they got back to the hotel, which almost wasn’t soon enough. It hurt almost physically not to undress Sebastian in the elevator, under the watchful eye of a 360 degree surveillance camera, but thank goodness their room was not far.

He made Sebastian get naked and put his hands on a desk in front of a mirror; he fucked him there, standing up, a good grip of the crown of Sebastian’s hair making sure he kept his eyes on the mirror.

The best part of it was that even when he eventually let go Sebastian’s gaze didn’t drop: he looked at himself getting fucked, sweaty strands of hair bouncing with the force of Cam’s thrusts, a silver cross pendant that hung in front of his chest sending its light signals whenever it caught a reflection from the floor lamp next to the desk, breathing heavily from between his pretty parted lips.

Cam could have told Sebastian in a million other ways how cute he was but none of them would have been this convincing – or this much fun.

 

<> 

_Don’t break anything._ What does Peters even mean? _Anything_ can be a number of things. Joints and tendons, hotel room furniture; his marriage, locker room unity. Sebastian’s heart. His heart.

Cam has a feeling he’s getting screwed.

They are less than halfway into the road trip and he is already used to Sebastian’s company. He likes having him around. Not just for the sex (although, he admits, it is definitely a benefit, a huge benefit, and yes, they have taken their share of risks on pieces of furniture) – he enjoys his presence, all the little perks and quirks that come with sharing a room with him.

The way Sebastian buries his toes under his thigh for warmth when he’s curled up in the corner of a couch scrolling through his phone. His carefree voice and relaxed face when he gets a call from Finland and blabbers happily in his unintelligible native language, bursting into a kind of giggles that are still rare to hear from him in an English-speaking environment. Even the little involuntary sounds he makes, snorting his nose to clear his windpipes, the graceless gargles and spits when he’s brushing his teeth.

How he guards himself when he’s cold, pushing his beanie deeper over his forehead, pulling the hood of his sweater on so deep it hides most of his face; the sweater paws, grey hoodie sleeves all the way down to his fingertips, stretching over the bumps of his knuckles.

He enjoys watching Sebastian gear up before games in the locker room. How he puts on his guards and settles into them, like he grew inches wider to every direction, filling a larger space than in his street clothes. The way he sits in his hockey pants and skates, legs spread wide, chewing a huge clump of gum. He is rippling with quiet energy in those moments, focused and alert, like summoning all the confidence in the world into his being.

Game face of a hockey boy becoming a man.

Sometimes he gets that same vibe out of Sebastian when they’re having sex and he enjoys those moments tremendously. It’s an enchanting change: Sebastian drops his need to be dominated, acts very physical and active, kisses and touches Cam like an equal, goes for what he wants with calm determination.

A surprise every day, a gift that keeps on giving. It is as if Sebastian was growing into himself so fast the change is evident and visible day by day, and Cam can’t feel but privileged to witness the development so close.

 

<> 

 

Cam’s 300th win doesn’t happen against the Kings because Darling is in the net (and they lose). He doesn’t get it from the Ducks, either (because they lose).

Vegas might be even harder, they’re playing yet in another new town back-to-back, and the expansion team is flying in their virgin season. Fair enough, it doesn’t come easy; it takes to the 5th round of the shootout to decide who’s better. Phil Di Giuseppe makes sure it’s them.

It is kind of late, they all know it, but how many times does their goalie hit such a landmark on his career? Cam is one of only seven active goaltenders in the NHL to have 300 wins under his belt, and they are in Las Vegas of all places, a town of endless party opportunities.

Sure, they’re all a bit weary and tired, but it would be a shame not pop a bottle of champagne, get a bite to eat in some nice place, a few drinks won’t hurt; the last game of the road trip is, let’s count, three nights away so this is the best possible night to go out if they ever will.

And, Cam notices, Sebastian looks buzzing, waiting for a chance to have fun. He doesn’t scream it out loud but Cam has learned to read him, how the excitement makes his eyes twinkle, how he is a little more fidgety, a little more bubbly than his usual calm self.

That does it; Cam accepts the joint plea to celebrate wholeheartedly.

 

A few internet searches and phone calls place them in the bar of a nice steak place, sparkling glasses in their hands, waiting for their tables to be ready.

Sebastian has been worried of getting served due to his age but Teuvo has said there’s no need to worry. “Just walk in with the rest of us like you belong there. They never single out just one.”

They don’t. Sebastian gets the same champagne as all the over-21’s. He gets the same 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon – Shiraz Cam selects from the wine list when they are finally sat to their tables deeper in the cozy restaurant.

The food is hearty and robust, tender meat on the bone, grilled Argentinian style, notes of charcoal and woodsmoke on the crispy surface of the melt-in-your-mouth tender beef, and the wine accompanies it perfectly.

Sebastian feels pleasant warmth on his cheeks, and it only deepens when he glances at Cam – they sit a few seats apart on opposite sides of the long table – and catches him already looking his way. They smile at each other, and the cute laugh lines under Cam’s eyes crinkle deeper, and the warm flush on Sebastian’s cheeks trickles down his body, fills him all the way to his belly and dances inside him like a hot flame.

 

The Swedes are not ready to call it a night after the dinner. The squad splits in two: some head to the hotel to crash. Sebastian notices his feet are taking him towards a club, and he isn’t complaining, he’s young enough to push his sleep forward.

Cam navigates to his side in the walking crowd, falling smoothly, little by little, into step with him. Cam takes his hand out of his pocket to wrap his arm around Sebastian’s shoulders, lightly and casually, but it’s enough to make Sebastian feel recognized, appreciated.

Nobody questions him sneaking into the club, sitting down on a winding couch by the back wall of the loud, blinking, dimly lit space, sipping a beer Cam orders for him after asking what he’d like. Cam sits on a stool in front of him, close enough for Sebastian to press his shin to his leg.

After a while Cam disappears to the men’s room, and when he comes back, he changes his seat, is on the couch next to Sebastian, rubbing his thigh with the knuckle side of his fingers.

Sebastian is already on his second beer. He needs to visit the toilet, too, and when he comes back, he sits a bit closer to Cam. Cam plays with his hair, just a bit, tucking a loose strand with a fingertip behind his ear, and Sebastian feels the body heat of Cam’s thigh through the fabric of his pants.

Cam’s hand is on his waist, between his body and the backrest. It’s not necessarily an invitation but Sebastian takes it as such. He’s not sure how it happens but with a fluid, casual twirl he sits on Cam’s lap.

Cam doesn’t push him back to his place so he considers it a success. He gives Sebastian a smile and pats his thigh before turning to continue chatting with Brock.

Faulker strolls in, having been stuck in some other part of the club. He leans over the table, extends both of his hands over Cam and Sebastian’s heads and ruffles their hair.

"300 wins!" Faulk exclaims, exhilarated. "I see you got your trophy boy there already, Cam." He keeps his eyes on the goaltender, granting Sebastian only a sidelong glance.

Sebastian doesn't know whether to feel flattered or humiliated but a tray of shots comes in handy for washing away any kind of thought. He has lost count of how many drinks he has had already but it's a party night, it's Vegas, and he has run out of fucks to give.

He downs one shot, then another in quick succession. He licks his lips as he puts the glass down and wraps his hands around Cam's neck again.

"Trophy boy," he says, "That's a new one."

Cam doesn’t appear to hear but he doesn’t ask Sebastian to repeat it, either, just gives Sebastian’s thigh a reassuring but somewhat absent-minded squeeze.

Sebastian’s hand fumbles at the table again, searching for another drink.

 

“…get going. C’mon,” Sebastian registers. Right. Time to go to sleep. He stands up and almost overbalances. How embarrassing. He concentrates on his movements, supports himself to the little round table in front of the couch.

He hiccups and holds back a giggle because it’s so silly, people hiccup when they drink only in cartoons.

He sways backwards but is saved by a firm barrel chest. He turns his head to see who it is but it’s hard, his eyes don’t quite follow the movement. It’s like a panning movie camera that doesn’t focus when it’s turning and the background gets blurred into warped lines.

He closes his eyes instead and feels a beard tickling his cheek, now he knows, it’s Scott Darling.

Who needs eyes anyway? You can basically recognize people by how they feel.

“You feel nice,” he mumbles.

He feels the chest rumbling with laughter under his cheek. “You’re wasted, Fishy.”

Sebastian agrees with a wordless hum. “I almost fell over”, he says. “You saved me.” _Goalie making a save_ , pops in his head and he realizes he has just come up with the most hilarious pun ever. “Goalie making a save,” he says and giggles. “What a save! How approp…” he doesn’t remember how the word continues. “ _Se on just niin_.” Boo, he’s switched to Finnish now, they won’t understand him, heated embarrassment flushes up to his cheeks, burning his eyes.

He opens one eye, sometimes it’s easier to focus that way, and glances upwards again. He’s not quite sure, but there may be sadness and worry in Scott’s eyes behind his amused smile, and an odd pang of guilt knots in Sebastian’s chest.

Firm large hands are on his shoulders and push him upright, and another hand grabs him under his arm and a familiar voice murmurs “Let’s go, Sebastian, you gotta walk.” Sebastian opens both eyes to look at Cam, he has two translucent heads that slowly slide together to merge into a normal one.

“I can walk,” Sebastian mumbles. He leans to Cam’s hand, Darling pats his shoulders before detaching his hands from them.

“Thank you Scott,” Sebastian says almost whispering and lets Cam guide him out, focusing gingerly on walking straight and making himself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

 

<> 

 

Sebastian wakes up to a sound of distant running water. His phone vibrates on the wooden surface of the nightstand and he realizes it’s probably that what woke him up, not Cam’s morning shower.

He is on his stomach in bed and feels like shit: uncomfortable in his skin, head heavy, and the taste in his mouth… he’d rather not search for words to describe it.

He picks up the phone with a heavy arm. Dad. Crap.

It’s afternoon in Finland, he can picture it. Everything a shade of blue around the early December sundown, Christmas lights over snowy streets. Dad will be up and alert, whereas he – could honestly do without an extra dose of fatherly worry.

The phone buzzes again, Sebastian clears his throat and answers, voice groggy.

“Sepe, you sound tired,” his father says. “You’re not getting sick?”

“Uhmm, no. I… we were out for a few.”

“I can figure. Nice to get a win in Vegas.” Sebastian can practically hear how his father chuckles, and how quickly his face changes to furrowing his brows before he continues. “But you know, you’re still only 20. I hope you won’t get in trouble with the drinking laws. Or get the organization in trouble.”

Sebastian would roll his eyes but it’s too painful. He shifts to his back, gathering pillows under his head. “No, I won’t. It’s… okay. No worries.”

His father continues. “Your voice is pretty bad. Sounds like more than a few.”

“Hey, dad, please. Okay, I’ve been better. But I’ll get some coffee.”

Dad sighs. “You know what you do, Sepe. I know you gotta let loose sometimes, but try to keep a lid on it during the season, okay?”

“Da-AD!” Sebastian growls. “It’s no biggie, really.”

The shower stops. Shit, Cam’s coming to the room soon.

“Sorry, Sepe, I didn’t mean to lecture to you,” dad says. “I trust you. You’re smart. Just… take care, okay?”

The bathroom door cracks open, Cam steps to Sebastian’s sight naked, drying his hair with a towel.

“You’re up,” Cam says, and Sebastian gestures wildly with his free hand to shut him up: shakes it, holds a finger over his lips, points at the phone.

“Was it your roommate? I thought you were still rooming with Teukka this season,” dad asks on the phone.

Sebastian panics. He didn’t need the fatherly worry about his drinking but he sure as hell can’t handle the kind of fatherly worry he got a month ago when he FaceTimed with his dad from Cam’s house, fucked boneless, marked with hickeys.

_I can’t mention Cam’s name now, dad would freak out._

“I don’t hear you,” he lies. “The connection’s getting funky. I’ll talk to you later, dad.”

Sebastian hangs up. Cam spreads his towel on the bedside, sits on it and strokes Sebastian’s hair.

“Morning”, Sebastian croaks.

Cam rubs Sebastian’s cheekbone with his thumb, digs the rest of his fingers in his hair.

“Morning, babe. How you feeling?”

Sebastian smiles weakly. “Better when you are there.” Cam’s hand sends blood flowing down his body, to his tingling groin. Another hangover side-effect: he wants sex.

“I shouldn’t have let you drink so much. Sorry I didn’t pay attention,” Cam says.

“It’s not your responsibility,” Sebastian says. He shuffles on the bed, itchy in his skin. “I fucked up your celebration. Sorry.”

“You didn’t. I had a good time,” Cam replies.

Sebastian puts a hand on Cam’s bare knee and strokes it. The skin is warm from the shower, coarse hair over silky smoothness. He’s quite done with fatherly concern for one morning; he wants a totally different kind of fatherly attention. “Thanks for getting me in here.”

“Of course,” Cam smiles. “It wasn’t hard. You got your feet back as soon as you got fresh air, and in here you just flopped onto the bed and passed out. You slept for solid fifteen minutes like that, got up, went to brush your teeth, undressed and crawled back in the bed and dozed off again. It was quite impressive. Gotta admire the efficiency.”

Sebastian chuckles. “I don’t remember any of that. I’ve been on autopilot,” he says.

He lets his hand slide to Cam’s inner thigh and squeezes it.

“I wished I had been more of a slutty drunk.”

“Well, you grabbed my dick the first thing when we got inside the room but passed out right after that.”

“Oh,“ Sebastian says and laughs softly. It sounds he hasn’t been too subtle, but at the moment he’s quite unembarrassed by the revelation. “Sorry.”

Cam smooths Sebastian’s hair with his hand and cups his cheek.

“You can’t feel your best right now. Want me to get you breakfast here?”

Sebastian looks at him, biting his lower lip. “Maybe later.”

“Need something else?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, takes Cam’s hand from his cheek and moves it to his lips. He sucks one finger in his mouth, releases it and smiles. “Cock and hand.”

Cam runs the wet fingertip down Sebastian’s chest. “In that case,” he says, “roll over.”

“Why? I’m comfy.”

Cam nudges the side of Sebastian’s hip to give him a starting push.

“I can fuck you, Seb,” he says, “But if you think I’m gonna face your breath you’re wrong. On your hands and knees.”

Sebastian giggles and obeys. When Cam gets bossy, it usually promises good things.

A hand is on his ass already, kneading it sternly.

“Please don’t use the vanilla one, okay? I might throw up from the smell,” Sebastian says, just in case, a bit uncertain if he’s in the place to ask for anything.

“Sure thing. We wouldn’t want that to happen,” Cam says and smacks him playfully. Sebastian flinches.

“Ouch. Don’t hurt me, I’m sensitive.”

“Do you want this or not?” Cam asks but gives a feather light kiss on the slapped spot.

“Oh, that’s lovely. I want it, Cam.”

Cam’s hands are always in such a nice condition, soft skin, no sharp edges on his fingernails. And he knows how to use them to tease Sebastian open, make him beg for it, another slick hand under his belly, around his cock, giving him all these sensations at once.

And how he pushes in! He knows how Sebastian needs it this morning, deep and hard, alive toned flesh slamming against his ass. One hand remains on his buttock, pressing it to the side, spreading him open.

Cam fucks him fast and rough; the grip of his hand so strong, fingers sinking in skin. He lets go of the meat of his buttock, slides the hand along his thigh to the back of his knee, grabs it tight, lifts it up to the side. A thigh pushes tighter under his own, helps support it up. Sebastian is spread wide, open and exposed; helpless to do anything but to receive, to be fucked.

It’s glorious.

Cam pulls out when he’s coming, the warm slick jizz falls on his ballsack, Cam’s hand spreads it to his cock, mixes it with the lube, and it’s – God, the slippery hand, the smell of Cam’s cum, so hot, it gets him so close.

Cam wraps his arm around his waist, pulls him upright to sit on his spread knees, goes on jacking him off so good, holds him in his lap, strong warm forearm across his belly.

Sebastian looks down, on his own cock peeking in and out of the circle of fast moving fist, loving the obscenity of it, the naked strong thighs between and under his own. Cam’s other hand supports him, he’s moved it up from his waist; fingers dig in his chest, move up to palm his forehead. Sebastian gropes backwards for Cam’s body, holds on to him the best he reaches, letting the hand take him out of this world.

_Oh fuck fuck it’s good,_ Sebastian doesn’t know if he’s saying his thoughts out loud or just gasping for breath and moaning, but Cam speaks, whispers him hot obscenities.

“Are you the hottest little horny cockslut ever, Sebastian? Gonna shout my name when you come?”

Sebastian whimpers and curses, he either whispers or moans Cam’s name, or repeats _yes, daddy_ , he’s too far off to register it or care. He can still feel Cam's cock under his slimy spread ass, Cam's hand. Cam's hot breath on his ear.

"Look at my sweet boy, look at you on daddy's lap."

All Sebastian knows is that the release is immensely satisfying, the most important thing in the universe, to empty himself, splurge over Cam’s caring hand.

And Cam lets him rest sitting on his lap like that, and doesn’t mind his breath when he turns Sebastian’s face to the side to kiss him.

 

They spend a good part of the morning in bed. Cam takes care Sebastian gets what he wants for breakfast from the room service, insists on shampooing and soaping him all over in the shower.

It’s travel day, and by the time they’re boarding on the plane, Sebastian’s hangover has turned into the softest, giggliest, half-numb, half-over-sensitive post-sex haze he ever remembers having taken over him.

 

<> 

 

The last hotel of the road trip is in Buffalo. The squad shambles in travel-weary, blind to their surroundings, eyes and thoughts wandering towards returning home.

Cam takes hold of the keys, as usual. Sebastian follows him, as usual.

Entering the room in silence. The usual twin beds, bedspreads with sharp edges, pillows spotless. Curtains, walls and furniture neutral hues of taupes, golden browns, off-whites; everything deliberately bleak and unoriginal.

Cam sits on the foot of the nearer bed, takes Sebastian’s hand and draws him to his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment’s silence.

“What are you sorry for?”

Cam squeezes Sebastian’s arm lightly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with anything more special with you while we were out here. You know, I – I thought of it so much. I had plans. Ever since that night in San Jose, it was so nice and I wanted more. I made web searches, almost booked something – but never did.”

“What plans?” Sebastian sounds mildly confused.

Cam sneers uneasily but calms his face and strokes Sebastian’s back. “Something special. Hot air balloon over the desert. Helicopter flight to the wine country. But you know, time – days just slipped away.

Sebastian looks genuinely surprised. “Why did you want to do it?” he asks, and, even more disbelieving, “For me?”

“Of course for you. For myself, too. But yes, for you. Who else? And why?” Cam tilts his head and looks at Sebastian’s face. “Do you know that your eyelashes look golden when the sun hits them? I just wanted to memorize it for…ever. Save a mental snapshot against some once-in-a-lifetime background.  A sleeping vineyard. Crisp blue sky.”

Sebastian swallows. _Something special. Your eyelashes look golden._

He never thought that Cam valued him so much.

He’s unable to comment it in any way, he can’t find words. It differs so much from what he heard from Cody back in Raleigh, or from Justin in the nightclub in Las Vegas.

It’s a lot to handle, but he doesn’t want to fall to pieces here. He can’t afford to let his emotions hit him too hard.

They have a game to play, points to gain. There have been too many dropped in the towns along the way already.

Sebastian twists slightly on Cam’s lap to face him. He strokes Cam’s cheek and leaves his hand there.

“It’s so sweet of you, Cam,” he says. “But you know, I don’t expect any of that. We’re not on a date here. This is no honeymoon.” His eyes shift between Cam’s, as if to see if his words sink in. “We’re here to play hockey. If I get to be with you on top of it, it’s – it’s all I ask for.”

Cam squeezes him in a hug. “You’re amazing, Sebastian.”

Sebastian smirks and twists on his lap a bit more. “So you want to put your cock in my amazing ass?” he asks.

“What have I done to deserve you?” Cam asks in return.

Sebastian laughs softly. “Bad things.” He slides his palm from Cam’s cheek to the back of his neck, leans his face closer and looks at him intently. “And you’ll do more.”

 

<> 

 

First 40 minutes of the game are lifeless skating around, slow and choppy. The first period is scoreless, the second ends 1—1.

The third is a different story. McCabe takes Sabres quickly to a one-goal lead but they’re as quick to respond. Jordo ties the game only a couple of minutes later, and after Ryan’s and Lindy’s goals the game is 4—2 for them.

Unfortunately it’s a hat-trick night for Sabres’ Jack Eichel.

Another overtime starts but this time it works for the Canes.

Sebastian hits the ice and picks up the puck Elias Lindholm drops off for him on the blue line. He trips down but manages to pass the puck back to Lindy and gets back up just in time to cast some screen between the Sabres goalie and Slavin who slaps in his first ever overtime goal.

Sebastian sees it firsthand and reacts immediately. The sharp thrill of joint accomplishment – and what’s more, of _winning_ , the best drug in the world – shoots through him and he skips up high on his skates out of pure excitement. He skates to Slavo to hug him, shouting a loud _“Yeah! Yes!”_ on the way.

Winning the game that turned into a roller coaster ride is a beautiful way to wrap up the two emotional weeks on an upbeat note.

And Wardo, what a guy, what saves. Sebastian leaves the celebration group hug and skates to thank the goalie.

At the moment he butts his helmet to Cam’s the thought hits him: This will be the last night together.

Maybe it’s the last only for a short time, they are hitting the road again after only a few nights in Raleigh, but he can’t count on it. He has no way of knowing what kind of remorse being back home may raise in Cam’s mind.

Sebastian doesn’t think he remembers what it is like to sleep alone.

His hand freezes, petrifies; he can’t lift his glove off Cam’s jersey. It rests frozen on the sweaty fabric, on the border of red and white, his arm wrapped around Cam’s shoulders like he never wanted to let go, for what he would wish to stretch into minutes instead of seconds, until he has to make room for others who want their share of hugging the goaltender.

 

Somehow there’s no energy for more of a road trip wrap-up party than a couple of raised glasses, lazy rounds of darts (everyone knows to be aware of Teuvo’s skills already so there’s not much of competition) and quiet camaraderie. An early flight and a game day ahead call for an early night.

Sebastian tucks his hand snugly under Cam’s arm in the elevator. He clings to him like that, like a kid afraid of losing sight of his parent in a crowd, all the way down the long corridor to their room.

Cam manages to dig the key card with his free hand. Inside he puts the key into the slot on the light switch, turns to Sebastian, strokes his hair and leaves his hand on his cheek.

“Sebastian,” is all he says.

Sebastian keeps his hold of Cam’s arm and grips the wrist of the hand cupping his cheek.

“Cam.” he says. The look in his eyes is serious. “You let me out so easy for that night in Vegas. I was an idiot but you were just sweet and gentle with me.”

Cam smiles at the serious face, curling his fingers to caress Sebastian’s hairline. “Of course I was,” he says.

Sebastian frowns. “You never punished me,” he says.

Cam takes a substantial look at him, straightens his neck and purses his lips for a long, pensive pause before he replies.

“You want _discipline?_ ” he asks for clarification.

Sebastian frees his hands form Cam’s arms. He lets them hang loosely in front of his body, a measly shield, eyes cast down on them.

“I shouldn’t ask.”

_I shouldn’t have to ask._

Cam lifts Sebastian’s chin with one finger, pecks his cheek and pulls back to catch his gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know”, he says, serious, studying Sebastian’s eyes.

Sebastian tilts his head to the side, looking at him pointedly.

“Maybe it’s not what you want”, he says finally. “Maybe it’s your duty. I need you to take care of me.”

Cam can’t argue with that. He doesn’t _want_ to argue with that.

He takes off his jacket and tosses it on top of his suitcase to be packed, takes Sebastian’s and does the same. He steps backwards deeper into the room. Sebastian follows him, and when he halts, Sebastian stops too, facing him.

Sebastian lifts one of his joined hands and reaches towards him cautiously, like worried if he’s allowed to. He points with his index finger, other fingers curled into a loose fist, places the fingertip lightly on Cam’s belt and draws it along its leather surface, the distance between two belt loops, from his side to the front. He leaves the finger there and looks straight at Cam.

“You go home tomorrow. I need to remember you,” he says. There’s plea in his eyes, but it’s mixed with a dark gleam of arousal.

Cam sighs. He takes a step back until Sebastian’s hand drops. He opens his belt and pulls it very slowly out of the belt loops, holds it in his two hands like weighing it, hesitantly, like it was a live snake. He looks at Sebastian.

“You sure?” he asks, a hint of anxiety in his eyes, like he was wishing for Sebastian to say no, to say he was kidding, or even to hesitate.

Sebastian doesn’t. He looks back at Cam and nods slowly.

Cam presses the buckle securely to the palm of his hand and wraps the belt around his hand one, two, three times. Sebastian looks at the remaining length: it hangs below Cam’s knee from his dropped fist.

“It’s time,” Cam says. “Now, tell me, what will you say to me when you really need me to stop?”

“I’ll say ‘stop’.”

Cam nods. “Okay. If you say stop, I’ll stop. If you say ‘no’, ‘no more’, or my name, or start crying, I won’t. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy. Sir,” Sebastian says and is grateful to see Cam doesn’t smirk at his reply; he feels more secure when Cam takes this seriously.

Cam whips the belt across the air, assessing how he can manoeuvre it as accurately as possible. The sound is a quick little whiff. He looks at Sebastian and takes another aim at the foot of the bed: it’s a sharp snap on the tight drawn corduroy bedspread.

“Okay, son,” he says. “Drop your pants and put your hands against the wall.”

Sebastian bares his ass; his shirt is long enough to cover it over halfway. Cam points at it. “Shirt off.”

Sebastian opens a few top buttons and pulls it off over his head. There’s sudden awkwardness about his moves, like he felt almost scared baring himself. His vulnerability touches Cam’s heart.

 

The first hit is sudden. Sebastian feels it all the way across his buttocks at once but as soon as it’s over, the tingling burn feels sharpest where the edges of the belt have hit the skin.

He doesn’t look, doesn’t turn his head to peek over his shoulder, but he listens closely, senses heightened, the rhythm of Cam’s breath, trying to estimate from it when the next one comes.

It’s quicker than he anticipates. Sebastian swears he feels the thick leather biting into his skin like blades. The tingling, again; like the hit forced the pain inside him, under the skin, and the aftereffect gets it to trickle back to the surface where it feels sharper, edgier.

Another whack lands between the first two. The next ones overlap, mix into one another, but it doesn’t take the edge off the way the leather bites into his buttocks. The pain starts to feel like a burn as it cumulates, forcing tears well in his eyes.

He doesn’t count; Cam didn’t give him a number nor asked him for one. He trusts Cam’s judgment in knowing when he’s had enough.

He flinches at the next one, a sharp cry escaping his lips involuntarily. He commands himself to keep silent when the belt hits him again but can’t force it. He whimpers through clenched jaw, pursed lips.

_Shut up. Endure._ But he is not in control anymore, not even of himself. Another _whump_ on his ass, and he cries Cam’s name, eyes prickly with tears he’s hardly holding from rolling down.

Gentle fingertips touch his burning skin as cool circles. “One more, love. You’re doing great.” Cam’s voice is soft, crumbling on the edges from emotion.

A tight tangle of feelings loosens in Sebastian’s chest. Tears of relief wet his cheeks, his cock twitches involuntarily at the word “love”.

The last spank is hard enough to draw a high-pitched whine out of his mouth but then it’s quiet, it’s over.  The belt buckle hits the floor with a metallic clank.

Cam touches his shoulder and he turns away from the wall. His ass hurts, pain radiates like heat, pulses to the surroundings of the spanked area of skin. Cam pulls him in a tender hug, kisses teardrops off his cheeks. “You took it so well, little boy. You’re so strong. I’m proud of you,” he whispers groggily and Sebastian feels a moist teardrop on his temple, where Cam’s face is pressed to his hair.

Sebastian notices he’s not the only one whose cock has lived a life of its own at the end of the spanking session. A hard bulge presses to his stomach through the front of Cam’s pants.

Cam turns him around in his embrace, pressing kisses on his hair. “Look,” he says softly, backing off half an arm’s length from the hug, and nudges Sebastian’s shoulder to guide him to look over it, at a mirror on the side of a coat cabinet.

Sebastian looks. His buttocks glow hot pink, the outermost layer of the skin almost translucent, a few bright red stripes over to the sides indicating the hardest hits.

It’s… going to take time to heal.

And it looks… arousing as hell, he’s a bit proud of the marks he’s carrying, of surrendering to Cam like that, and Cam… wow, actually doing it to him.

“I told you you’re strong, baby boy,” Cam purrs to him, eyes just as enchanted by the vision in the mirror as his own.

Sebastian turns his head slowly and lifts his gaze at Cam’s face. “Thank you,” he whispers.

 

Every time Sebastian tries to turn to his back in his sleep the pain wakes him up. He didn’t want the ice pack Cam offered for his battered behind, only some body lotion – not the cooling one after the stingy burn he felt on a spot where the skin was a bit broken.

“Just blow at it”, he pleaded Cam, and Cam did as told.

He sees Cam’s eyes open in the faint glow of the exit light and the streetlights behind the curtains.

“You’re awake”, Sebastian hums sleepily through his breath.

Cam knits his brows together and sneers uneasily. Sebastian thinks for a moment Cam is angry at something, but with a closer look it seems that his eyes are showing anguish, maybe sorrow.

“Oh fuck, Sebastian,” Cam sighs and wipes across his nose with his fingers.

“What is it?”

Cam huffs out air and inhales slowly. He worries his lips like he was buying time, like he wasn’t sure if he should speak his mind.

Finally he pushes his fingers carefully in Sebastian’s hair, rests his hand there.

“I don’t want to feel like this,” he says in an anxious voice. “I’m falling in love with you, Sebastian. It’s real. I’m afraid it’s too real.”

Sebastian feels a cold ring closing around his heart. Why must the sweetest words he never expected to hear be surrounded with such an air of darkness, something so black and vitriolic?

“What do you mean, Cam?” he asks in a suffocated voice. Maybe Cam will say something easy and relaxed that unwinds the mood completely.

“I—“ Cam starts, curling his fingers like trying to claw on a slippery ice, the fingertips dig in Sebastian’s scalp almost hurting him, “I don’t _need_ this in my life. I have everything in order, in its right place. I’m happy with what I have. I don’t want a thing to change.” he sighs, then shakes his head, like waking up fully. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I sound horrible. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sebastian feels cold, so cold. The cold must creep in his voice. “How did you mean it?” he hears himself asking, like from afar.

Cam eases his grip of his scalp, slides his hand to the back of Sebastian’s head and leans in to kiss his forehead. “You’re so sweet I don’t know how to handle it. Let’s put it that way, okay?” he says, failing at his attempt at a light tone because of the tense edge to his voice.

Sebastian is too tired to protest. All he does is tilt his face upwards to claim the lips from his forehead to his mouth instead.

 

<> 

 

No regrets, Sebastian says to himself, despite the fact that after the seat belt light goes off he mostly wanders around in the plane, or is on his knees on his seat, leaning his forearms to the backrest like the most interesting thing in the world is to watch the card game on the next row, or tries to find a comfortable position lounging sideways across the seats. Cam looks at him with a barely withheld smirk that he tries not to return.

He’s a bit disoriented from the lack of sleep and painkillers on the airport and loses sight of Cam until it’s too late. He’s in the far corner of the arrivals hall already, squatting down in front of his daughter, picking her up. Cody has Nolan’s hand in her hand and Cam shifts Nyla to one arm, and Cody takes the other hand in hers.

All four Wards are already heading out when Cam looks over his shoulder, and turns his head around, searching with his gaze until he spots Sebastian. He turns halfway to get the hand of the side he’s holding his daughter on out enough to wave at him.

Cody follows her husband’s gaze and turns to Nolan’s side to say something, and Nolan turns halfway around to wave his hand high at Sebastian, Cody accompanying the greeting with a nod and a warm smile.

Sebastian can’t afford to be sick, not on a game day.

 

Teuvo takes the few fast strides that part him from Sebastian so silently and efficiently that nobody would ever notice how hurried his steps are. He glances after the last glimpse of the Wards and shakes his head.

“ _Ei jumalauta mikä paska_ ”, he mutters Finnish cursewords from under his breath, ”What an asshole.”

Sebastian stands on his spot, pale and trembling. Teuvo rubs his shoulder. “I’ll get us a car, Sepe, okay?”

Sebastian barely nods and doesn’t lift a finger when Teuvo gathers both of their bags in the same luggage cart, but mumbles a quiet “thanks” as he follows Teuvo pushing it towards the exits.

Teuvo is not violent by nature but he would gladly beat the shit out of Wardo right now.

“You deserve better” he says in the car. “You all right to play?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says vaguely and Teuvo is unsure which part of what he said Sebastian agrees. Maybe both: later in the night he averts his eyes from Wardo in the locker room, and apart from an atypical hooking penalty doesn’t play too far from his usual solid self.

 

<> 

 

At home they win, but the away game a couple of days later, against Toronto Maple Leafs, is a different story.

8-1 is a devastating number, and the only real chance to wipe it off the chart is to treat the embarrassment as a statistical blemish, so outlying an occurrence it is not even meant to count.

It is best to travel out of Toronto as soon as possible, when you haven’t even woken up properly, roam to the airport as a sleepy-eyed caravan. Continue napping through the flight, to have a little bit fresher eyes to meet the next town.

 

Back on the road again was not supposed to be back on the road _mood_ again but as much as Sebastian hates to admit it, it is. Back home he was a master at giving Cam the cold shoulder, cutting him off when he called him one night after their only home game.

The lowered voice, the almost-whisper over the phone repulsed Sebastian enough to make him ask sharply where Cam’s wife was.

“She’s putting the kids to bed. I came out to the back yard. Shit, I miss you.”

Sebastian let all the steel he could force out of his mouth leak in his voice. “Cam,” he said, “If you have to sneak out to talk to me don’t call me again. Never fucking ever.”

 

Yet, here they are, landing at Nashville before noon, Sebastian blinking in embarrassment when he notices a spot of his drool on Cam’s shirt. Cam mouths a silent “never mind” at him and ruffles his hair, and his eyes say “You’re so cute I’ll have your spit gladly all over me,” and Sebastian smiles a deeply content wide smile, butting his head on the hand mussing his hair, then the chest that served as his pillow so well.

He feels Cam’s hand sliding from his hair to the back of his neck. The way the hand brushes on his skin, a gentle but stern sweep, a few times back and forth between his hairline and collar, sends chills of excitement down his spine, it always does.

How the touch alone can carry so many connotations, entail so many memories, so many promises. The hand can slide across his neck to the front, press his throat, hold his chin in place; it can dig into his hair, grab it in a fist, tilt his head back arching his neck. It can simply hold him down, keep his cheek firmly pressed to the bedsheet when he gets a brisk, thorough fucking, but it can also rest there calmly, guiding him to places, shielding him from harm, as if silently saying _Don’t you worry kid, I know what you need and I will take you to it, whatever or wherever it is_.

How could he ever say no to it?

 

Sebastian doesn’t drink tonight, he’s learned his lesson, but he’s lovedrunk enough to make a secret sex bet during the fun team outing.

“I’ll blow you for luck in the locker room after morning skate”, he whispers and it has consequences: Cam beats him in both pool and air hockey.

Oh shit, Sebastian giggles, he’s screwed, screwed and giddy.

 

<> 

 

A tall, lean man strides the hallways of Bridgestone Arena in springy steps. Pekka Rinne knows every nook and corner of his second home like the back of his hand. He greets each passer-by with a word and a friendly smile. If they are personnel, he knows them; if they’re fans or tourists, they know him.

Joakim Nordström and Elias Lindholm are the first Carolina Hurricanes players he meets on his way and he knows his timing is right, the ice time for the visiting team’s morning practice is over. It would be unlikely that his timing would be off: he knows the schedule of the rink just as well as its layout and its people.

 

The words of an old friend ring in Pekka’s head.

At first he thought the GM of his former Finnish team was calling him to ask for a Christmas greeting video to be put on the club website (not likely - that would have been the job of the PR team) but no: Harri Aho wanted to talk about his son.

”I’ve talked to Sepe on the phone a couple of times after he’s had an obviously rough night,” he said, “I’m a bit worried. His game form isn’t slipping but if he has other problems… I just hope there isn’t anything he should open up about before it grows bigger.”

Pekka listened to him empathetically.

“If you could just check out how he seems to be doing the next time you have a chance, it would be awesome. I trust your judgment,” Harri said, and Pekka promised to help.

It was a task he took with pleasure. He had a hard time believing Sebastian Aho would be in trouble, it was more likely that his father’s concern grew out of simply missing his son.

In Pekka’s eyes Sebastian had always been a great kid, ambitious and hard-working; a fun, competitive member of his Oulu-based summer training group. He had seen him grow into such through youth ranks of the club, from a teammate’s round-eyed diaper-butt toddler into an elite player whose smart and versatile hockey was exciting to watch – and dangerous to play against.

It couldn’t be anything but a fun night to have Sebastian come over to his house after the game, for a late home-made dinner and sauna. One of Pekka’s talents was to make his countrymen feel at home and Sebastian sure was one who deserved – and, if his father was to be trusted, needed – an evening like that.

 

He has now come across most of the Canes players but not Sebastian. He hopes he hasn’t missed him and thinks of digging out his phone to try and call him when he meets Scott Darling and asks him.

“Aho? He’s still in the locker room,” Darling says, and seems like he’s about to go on, but Pekka picks up his pace to leave, granting a quick “Okay, thanks” at Scott over his shoulder.

Darling turns around to holler at Rinne’s back. “No, sorry, I wouldn’t go in there –“ he starts but the tall lean figure is already around the corner.

 

Pekka knows a shortcut to the visitor locker room, through a utility closet to a maintenance room, and you’re on the side door, close to the shower room.

The hinges of that door are very silent and Pekka doesn’t even think of knocking – locker rooms are public spaces, this should be empty, and he is in his second home where he would find his way around blindfolded.

He does regret it, though, the moment he cracks the door open and peeks in.

It’s not empty. In the far corner, right in his view through the narrow crack of the door, it’s… _oh shit_.

Sebastian on his knees on the plastic mat in front of the lockers, in black t-shirt and tight shorts. Sucking the cock of – it’s got to be Cam Ward, Pekka sees only part of the face, back of the short-haired head, long neck, ass bared by lowered Under Armour bottoms. He either has a really short dick or is in really deep, Pekka would wish the former but suspects the latter because the act looks to be on the rough side, the man’s hand is on Sebastian’s throat, the other clutches his hair, and the stretched corners of Sebastian’s lips glisten with streaming spit, and –

Pekka snaps out of it, he’s intruding, he should in no way be watching this. He closes the door silently, backs off on his toes, turns around and walks away.

It’s good he knows the Bridgestone Arena like the back of his hand and would find his way around blindfolded. Because that’s how he feels, dazed and numb.

And worried as hell: what is happening with that sweet, ambitious kid he has known since he was a toddler, running around the Oulun Kärpät locker room, chased by his dad who had brought him in to change his diapers?

 

Like any true professional, Pekka is a master at keeping off-ice problems off the ice. Usually - tonight is a rare and unfortunate exception.

He attempts at casual when Sebastian skates to his goal to greet him during the informal warm-up time. Sebastian is so upbeat, confidently cheerful, compliments the attendance of their arena. Not that he doesn’t throw some of his usual low-blow chirps at him, keeping it moderate and friendly because it’s Pekka; Sepe has a soft spot for all the northern guys, always as unable to shake off his endearingly patriotic hometown loyalty.

Pekka smiles a fake-it-to-make-it smile. “Talk after the game?” he suggests, “Text me when you’re free. I’d like you to come over,” he says.

Sebastian flashes him an uninhibitedly joyous grin. “Great! I will!” he promises and skates off, towards his team’s goal, towards his own…

fucking goalie.

Pekka wishes he would have kept the off-ice plans off the ice, because now that the private life is on the ice in the form of the invitation, private life is… on the ice, period.

_I trust your judgment_ , that’s what the boy’s dad has said to him only a couple of days back. If only Pekka could trust his own judgment.

 

Puck drops, and shots start firing at him at a rate he’d usually handle gleefully, as a nice way to get hot and into the game. Not now: his sloppiness is like from a nightmare. He makes a couple of saves, but what matters are the saves he fails to make.

A nightmare.

Derek Ryan scores on him only 37 seconds into the game. Lindholm two and a half minutes later. Hanifin at 4:47, Rask t 6:29.

After that Preds call for a  timeout. Pekka skates off the ice, handing his crease over to Juuse Saros.

 

Sebastian’s text after the game is surprisingly polite and nice.

_Still want to meet?_

Pekka rings back.

“I want to change out of the suit but could come straight after that,” Sebastian says.

“I have the sauna ready. You can change after that. You could just hop in my car here,” Pekka offers.

“Okay, but I’ll have to pick up my clothes from the hotel anyway.”

 

Cam overhears Sebastian speaking Finnish on the phone in the back corner of the locker room and gives him a questioning look.

“Is it okay if I pop at Pekka’s tonight?” Sebastian asks after hanging up. “He asked me to come over.”

Cam pulls him aside to the maintenance room behind the side door of the room.

“If I don’t have to worry about you,” he says, stroking Sebastian’s cheek with the knuckle side of his fingers. “If you promise you’ll be good.”

Sebastian grabs the lapels of Cam’s jacket and pulls him to a kiss. “Of course,” he says as he detaches. “I’m all yours. No matter where I am or who I’m with.”

Cam squeezes the muscles next to his spine through his suit, a bit turned on by the kiss, the close proximity, the win. “That’s my boy. I hate to let you go but… I know, I have no right to keep you all to myself.”

Sebastian chuckles and nudges Cam’s chin with his nose. “Stop talking like that or I can’t leave anywhere. I’ll miss you.”

Cam pulls him in a hug. “Okay. Go console your Finnish loser. Give me a call if you want me to pick you up.”

“’Kay. I’ll tell Peksi you told me to console him. And that you called him a loser.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“No. Not really. I don’t think we’ll talk too much. He will bake me in a too hot sauna and stuff me full of food.”

“Wait – he’s gonna get naked with you?”

Sebastian pecks Cam’s lips.

“Do’t be stupid. It’s not sexual.”

Cam sneers at him. “I can’t get how seeing you naked could not be sexual.”

Sebastian laughs softly. “Ha. You’ve seen me naked in the showers a hundred times before we got into anything.”

Cam gives him a naughty grin and pulls him close again. “You have no idea,” he murmurs, not concluding the sentence.

Sebastian leans up to bite his neck, grabs his hands and takes them off his waist. “I need to go. He’s waiting,” he says.

“Have a good time,” Cam says.

“Thanks.”

“But not too good.”

Sebastian blows him a kiss and leaves.

 

Sebastian was right about one thing: Pekka’s sauna is hot.

He is not complaining. It looks like he’s receiving a torture but he’s enjoying himself: the scorching heat that meets his skin heat cleanses and relaxes him in a way that the tame public versions, hotel or gym saunas, never can. He lets his head hang down between his shoulders, concentrates on feeling how the sweat beads grow larger on his crouching back, join in one another, stream down both sides of his spine.

They chatter about nothings – they reminisce previous summer, the pranks played around various charity games they played in Finland; and go on arguing about whose team eventually ended up winning in their last foot volleyball game they used for warm-ups in their summer training. Christmas plans come up: Pekka is probably inviting the ever-growing circle of Finnish hockey expats of Nashville for Christmas dinner and Sebastian is having his parents over.

“I talked to your dad a few days ago,” Pekka says. “He kind of wanted me to see you in person, ask how you’re doing.”

“Oh,” Sebastian sounds surprised. He shrugs. “Nothing special, I guess. Games are going better.” He chuckles to himself a bit and peeks at Pekka from his crouched position, squinting one eye because sweat is rolling down into it. “I would have thought you wanted to meet me without anybody telling you to, though.”

It’s Pekka’s turn to chuckle. “Don’t be silly, of course I did. But I’d just love to tell your dad you’re doing great.”

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “I am,” he says. “But I have to get out now. Getting hot.”

He steps down from the benches. As he steps from the dimly lit sauna to the bright lights of the shower room, Pekka notices his bruised buttocks. He doesn’t think much of it: in hockey you’re hitting your ass to the hard ice or board or other players’ sticks all the time, and despite the padded pants it can leave marks.

Not until later, when he notices Sebastian twist his torso to glance at his discolored behind over his shoulder, like checking how it looks. He blushes and looks embarrassed for a sweeping second.

Something is up, obviously.

 

Pekka tries to think of ways to bring up the uncomfortable subject but apart from the momentary sign of embarrassment the smooth, cheerful surface of Sebastian’s demeanor shows no signs of cracking tonight. Pekka has to remind himself that Sebastian’s dad didn’t even ask for him to talk to his son – just to check out on him.

He decides to stick to the plan he had before the involuntary locker room peeping: offer some cozy Finnish homeliness and comfort food. At least he knows _he_ could use the kitchen for comfort.

 

Pekka reveals a ball of dough from a bowl, under a kitchen towel, sprinkles some flour on the marble tabletop and kneads the ball very gently with his sinewy hands. He smiles at Sebastian who sits down on a stool by the other end of the kitchen island in his towel-dried damp hair, skin glowing pinkish after the sauna, and slides an open bottle of Finnish lager his way.

“Thanks”, Sebastian smiles gratefully and takes a long, satisfying gulp. The beer doesn’t taste too different from the usual Buds of Millers but looking at the familiar bottle design gives him a sense of comfort and happiness. He belches loudly and giggles bashfully. “Sorry,” he says.

Pekka  smiles at him. “You’re a pig, Sepe.”

Sebastian is certain Pekka has started to make the pizza dough well in advance. It has been left resting and leavening probably since morning, slowly developing taste and texture, like a precious living creature.

The bottom starts to take form under Pekka’s expert fingers. He flattens and stretches the dough to a larger and larger circle until he’s satisfied; he twirls it around a couple of times, admiring the perfectly round shape, and starts to knead another ball into a similar flat round.

“It smells so good already,” Sebastian says and Pekka smiles at him from under his brows, face bowed down to watch his work.

“Wait till they get the toppings,” Pekka says, moving to dig bowls out of a large built-in fridge.

Sebastian lets out a pleased hum. “You know how to take care of a guy,” he says and sounds so flirtatious Pekka’s stomach makes a small tumble. He can very well see how somebody could be attracted to Sebastian, and it’s not an entirely comfortable feeling to have.

 

As the pizzas bake on heated flat stones in Pekka’s large oven – Pekka moved them there with a pizza peel so expertly Sebastian could only look in awe – Sebastian starts to get fidgety. He reminds Pekka of himself on nicotine withdrawal jitters.

Shit, now he craves a cig.

“Can I ask a friend to come over?” Sebastian asks. “We were supposed to… hang out tonight, and I feel bad for leaving him alone.”

Pekka smiles at him. “Of course, Sepe. Go ahead,” he says, and Sebastian vanishes around the corner with his phone.

 

Sebastian seems to love the pizza with tomato sauce, spicy ground beef, black olives and marinated red onion; he loves the white pie one with cold smoked salmon, avocado and dill mayo, all of which Pekka has spread on the top right after baking.

But he seems to love the sound of the doorbell even more.

 

Pekka doesn’t know why he has been kidding himself to think that it might be Teuvo or one of the other younger guys that Sebastian wanted to see.

Of course it isn’t.

Pekka opens his lavish front door into the dark night, and Ward stands on his doorstep, looking every inch like a man who tries to hide his nervousness behind the over-priced bottle of wine he’s holding out as a greeting, a house-warming gift, or a shield.

Thanks to his well-trained manners and quick reflexes, Pekka manages to plaster a polite smile on his face and welcomes his late guest in.

 

As soon as they step into the kitchen Pekka sees Sebastian’s face light up like he’s seeing the sun. He glances the other way and notices that the expression is merely a reflection of the warm smile of recognition the Canes goaltender’s face melts into.

_Christ, this isn’t bad, it’s worse. Those two idiots think they are in love._

He invites Cam to the table, sets a plate and glass for him. He asks if Cam would prefer the red he brought or the white Pekka has opened in the table, and Cam opts for the latter. He compliments it, and having tasted Pekka’s pizzas compliments it more, and Pekka can appreciate it (he chose the Riesling to accompany the salmon but it’s not bad with the tomato pizza, either).

As the meaningless small talk bubbles over the table, Pekka can’t help frowning at the uninhibited puppy eyes Sebastian keeps pointed at Cam. Sebastian catches it and shoots him back with a questioning look, lifting his eyebrows.

“Is something the matter?” he asks Pekka in Finnish.

“I saw you choking on this guy’s dick earlier today,” Pekka says in Finnish, his usual friendly, open smile plastered on his face. “How do you think it made me feel?”

Sebastian feels his cheeks flushing warm but struggles to maintain a straight face. “Well, it depends. Did you get off watching?” he retorts.

Cam follows the discussion, trying to read what’s being said from the two faces but he has no clue.

“Oh, sorry, Cam,” Pekka switches to English, directing his shiny, polite smile at him. “It’s so easy to get carried away when you get a chance to speak Finnish. Please don’t feel left out.” He lifts the bottle. “Refill?” he asks, and Cam nods a yes. “Thanks,” he says.

Pekka grimaces apologetically and pats his thighs.

“Sorry, guys, I’ll step out for a quick smoke. Terrible habit, never start,” he says and picks up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the side table.

Sebastian’s eyes dart at him. “Peksi, wait. I’d like a word,” he says and glances nervously at Cam by his side. “If it’s okay, I mean, you just got here and I –“ but Cam waves him off.

“Go ahead. You see so rarely.”

 

Recessed floor lights give Pekka’s terrace a dim glow. Pekka’s face is in a shadow until the flame of his lighter casts its light on it for a moment.

“Look how you stress me out”, Pekka says at Sebastian, waving his lit cigarette in front of his eyes, blowing out the first smoke he’s drawn from it.

“Cut the crap,” Sebastian blurts. “What the hell, Peksi? Did I hallucinate or did you just tell me you watched us in the locker room?”

Pekka shakes his head. “Shit, Sepe, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, but Christ, that’s… Do you think what you guys are doing is okay? Your father is worried about you. He didn’t say why but he asked me to check out on you when I get a chance. Just to see what’s going on in your life. If everything is going as it should be.”

“You can tell my dad he really should not send anyone to spy on me. That’s just… that’s disgusting.”

Pekka extends his arms to the side into a frustrated shrug, some burning ashes drop from the cigarette as he swings his long arm to the side.

“Fuck no, Sepe, I wasn’t spying on you! I was just looking for you to say hi and to say exactly what I said at the game, to ask if you’d come over! Like, fuck, don’t think I _wanted_ to see that!” The tall man draws another inhale from his cigarette.

“Well, you did.”

“And I left. I didn’t stay watching. But I saw enough to say that this is not cool. Being a locker room toy for older guys won’t get you far, Sepe.”

Sebastian glares at him and turns back and forth on his feet out of pure frustration.

“Peksi, do you even hear what you’re saying?” he groans. “Why does everybody talk about me like that? Like I’m nothing but some _object_ here? Like I don’t have my own will in this?” Sebastian huffs loudly, shifting his weight from one foot to another and shakes his head.

“It’s fucked up, Pekka!” he continues. “I’ve played and been in the locker room with grown men for years! Nobody calls _me_ a trophy when I _win_ them trophies. My goals and my plays and my passes and my checks have given wins and medals for guys twice my age. Nobody calls me a toy or a slut when I do that! Not when it benefits them! But the second I have something just for _me_ and for someone _I_ like it’s all…” Sebastian spreads his arms, looking into the dark garden like searching for words there, shakes his head and returns his gaze to Pekka. “It’s such bullshit. Just… fuck.”

Pekka nods and sucks his cigarette slowly.

“Sorry, Sebastian” Pekka says. “But there’s another thing. I don’t know if I should say this but I’m worried your way of having fun will lash back at you.”

He looks at Sebastian very sternly, genuine concern in his eyes.

“Cam isn’t just older. He’s in a totally different place in his life than you.” Pekka swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down on his lean neck, like he’s hesitant to continue but does.

“I’m afraid he’ll go back to his family and leave you hurt and alone.”

Some of the defiant glare washes notably off Sebastian’s face when he hears that. He stays silent before he can get himself to answer.

“He comes back,” he mutters finally, as much to himself as to Pekka.

“And goes back,” Pekka retorts, blowing smoke in the air. “Look, Sebastian, how many times are you prepared to break apart and pick up the pieces again?”

Sebastian inhales sharply like he’s been hit and flutters his eyelids quickly a couple of times, as if to chase away tears. He turns quickly on his sneaker heels and storms inside.

 

“Take me away from here,” he says to Cam, landing a trembling hand on the back of his chair, like he couldn’t get out fast enough without helping Cam up by pulling his chair. “I need to get out. Let’s go.”

For a moment Cam looks like he would try to calm him down, convince him to stay and start mediating whatever needs to be settled between the two Finns. He sighs, looks down at the table and back at Sebastian.

“If you’re sure,” he says, stroking the back of Sebastian’s hand gripping his chair.

Pekka enters as Cam is getting up. Their eyes meet.

“I’m sorry we’re leaving this early,” Cam says, “Apparently Sebastian wants to call it a night.”

Pekka looks at the two of them, arms dropped wide in a helpless aim at a shrug, somehow managing to pull an automated polite smile on his serious face.

“Of course,” he says. “It was nice to meet you.”

His eyes are full of concern when he looks at Sebastian. He bows his head to catch his eyes, and finally Sebastian gives in and lifts his defiant glare from the floor at the fellow Finn.

“Stay safe, Sepe, okay? You’re a great kid. I love you. Whatever – we’ll always be there for you.”

Sebastian has already turned away to walk to the door.

 

Cam has paid his ride extra to keep circling in the neighborhood and the car pulls up quickly. Sebastian takes his hand on the backseat, gripping it tight.

“Back to the hotel?” Cam asks.

Sebastian shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No. Take me out. I want to have fun.”

Fun is the last word that would come to Cam’s mind looking at Sebastian’s profile in the dark car: high-strung body, anxious, livid face.

“Where to?” Cam asks.

“The street where the bar was yesterday? There were lots of places,” Sebastian says vaguely and Cam turns ahead to negotiate with the local driver.

 

Sebastian keeps to Cam’s hand on the street. He goes past the sports-meets-country themed bar from the team outing, barely looks at the bar fronts they pass, dragging Cam in his wake.

Finally he enters one of the places through swinging saloon doors. The air inside a purple haze, lit up by neon signs advertising different beer brands.

Country girl curls and cowboy hats float and bounce against the backlight as people dance two-step on a cramped dance floor to a band playing on an equally cramped stage. The fiddler must choose his position carefully to have enough room to move his bow without poking any of the other band members in the eye. The singer has a raspy, nasal sound.

 

_Funny how falling feels like flying for a little while._

 

Sebastian’s eyes gleam, his jaw is clenched tight. He darts a quick, stern look at Cam.

“Get me a drink. Now.”

“What do you want?” Cam asks cautiously.

“Anything. Something strong.”

Cam elbows his way to the bar.

“Double vodka, please.”

The bartender glances at Sebastian behind Cam’s back. Sebastian balances on his sneakers, jeans-clad legs ajar, the black beanie almost down to his brows, white long-sleeve t-shirt a shade of lavender in the bar lighting, skin smooth as milk.

“Him? They check his ID at the door? Admission is for over 21’s only after midnight,” the bartender says.

There was no doorman when they came in.

“He’s with me,” Cam says and glares sternly at the bartender. “He is 21. And he’ll have a coke.”

He takes both glasses, hands Sebastian the vodka when they reach a stand-up table further inside the room. Sebastian chugs it halfway, grimaces, drinks the rest in two gulps. He glances around the room, spots a sign for toilets.

“Come”, he blurts and turns on his heels. He reaches back with his hand, glancing only quickly over his shoulder to see if Cam takes it and follows, and Cam doesn’t see any other option than to take the hand and follow.

 

In the small dead-end corridor to the restrooms there is one door with a sign of “cowboys” and two for “cowgirls”. Cam won’t bother sneering at the tired cliché.

Sebastian doesn’t choose the swinging cowboys door or the cowgirls door opposite it on the other side of the corridor. Instead he opts for the cowgirls door next to it, one with a handle and a lock, opens it, pulls Cam inside and locks the door behind them.

It’s a small space, a wall-to-wall countertop with sink on one wall, a door to a small toilet stall on the other, eerily doubled in the large mirror behind the countertop.

Sebastian faces Cam head-on, slides his fingers in his belt loops and pulls him close with a frantic, almost desperate tug. He puts his hand behind Cam’s neck and draws him into a kiss, as hasty and desperate as his hands. His mouth tastes of raw alcohol, his other hand is still on Cam’s waistline, sliding under his shirt, and deft fingers start pulling Cam’s belt out of its buckle.

“I need you, Cam,” he whispers amidst the kiss, “fuck me right here.”

Sebastian’s desperation shows such vulnerability and pain that Cam doesn’t want to reject him, but he doesn’t feel that having sex is a solution to whatever is bothering the boy, either. He’ll have to follow along and play time for as long as he can.

With Sebastian’s hand on his dick and mouth on his neck he doesn’t know how long he can.

“I didn’t even have a chance to tell you how hot you played today,” Sebastian murmurs close to his ear, breath hot and humid. “You earned us the win and you should own my ass for it.”

The boy can surely put on the temptation game when he wants to. Cam should be ashamed to fall for such an easy trap but it’s nice to hear the words from such a pretty mouth.

“I missed you so much tonight. I shouldn’t be apart from my daddy,” he continues, giving Cam’s cock rhythmic squeezes through his pants. “I know you want it too. I’ll suck your cock hard and wet and you’ll fuck me so hot and good I won’t know where I am. I’m fucking shaking just thinking about it, Cam.”

Cam’s body reacts more than his brain, he kisses Sebastian back hard and hungry, squeezes his round ass with both hands and Sebastian lets out small whimpers right into his mouth, rising on his toes to better grind his bulging front to Cam’s erection.

Sebastian’s hands have already worked his belt and waist button open and are unzipping his pants, and the fingers slide inside his underwear, wrap around the shaft, fingertips sweeping his balls. The mouth on his is wet and tastes of booze, and the other hand caresses his scalp and the back of his neck.

Sebastian has dug Cam’s cock out of his pants and kneels efficiently on the tiled floor, putting his open mouth on the cock, gives a generous wet twirl around it with one wide sweep of his tongue, closes his lips around the shaft and sucks it, clearly on a mission of salivating as excessively over it as possible. Cam looks down, Sebastian is opening his own pants, using the toe of his sneaker to get the other one off his foot. The hard cock pops out as he lowers his jeans, peeking under the hem of his shirt, Cam stares at it until Sebastian shifts and his sucking face blocks the view.

Not that Cam can really complain about that sight, either.

Sebastian’s eyelids crack open and he darts an upward cast look at Cam, brown eyes as needy and begging as they are horny and determined.

Cam sweeps Sebastian’s beanie off and throws it on the counter. He puts his hand in Sebastian’s hair, slides it to the back of his head and guides him up. If the boy wants to be fucked he can’t go on doing that thing with his mouth much longer or Cam will be finished before they’re started.

Sebastian smirks and licks his lips as he gets up from the floor, kicking the shoe he started to toe off while kneeling on the floor and peeling the jeans down to his knees. He goes on to undress one leg completely, grabs Cam’s hips half-naked and leans up to another kiss, tasting fucking obscenely of a mixture of fading alcohol and something Cam has learned to recognize as his own cock.

He spits in his hand and wraps it loosely around Cam’s cock, like nurturing his erection, keeping it entertained.

“Will you do it, Cam?” he asks. “Do you want me?”

_Pretty baby. I’ll never say no._

Sebastian smirks and bites Cam’s bottom lip with another kiss, and Cam suspects he spoke out loud.

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he says and Sebastian looks at him from under his brows like he was stupid.

“You won’t. Use spit and stretch me well,” he says, sucks two of Cam’s fingers in his mouth, lets them out with a pop and turns around in his embrace.

He leans his hands to the edge of the counter and lifts his bare foot up next to them. Cam’s eyes meet him in the mirror, and Cam spits some more on the wet fingers and goes to work.

There’s no chance this could have gone any other way.

Cam pushes a finger in, coaxes another next to it. He kisses Sebastian’s neck, takes a tender hold of it with his teeth, careful not to scrape, and gently but firmly presses the two fingers apart. Sebastian’s breath deepens, a blush rises on his cheeks and Cam tastes salty sweat on the skin of his neck, and he sighs a breathy, enthusiastic “ _yes”_.

Cam can see his hand entering Sebastian in the mirror, and Sebastian’s stretched position gives a spectacular view to everything between his thighs.

“Look at us,” Sebastian whispers to his ear. “You’re gonna see your cock go in there, you’ll watch how you fuck me, how hot it makes me.”

“Fucking wild child,” Cam mutters and replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s intense and rough, more friction than ever with real lube, but Sebastian shows no signs of pain, only pleasure. He keeps his eyes in the mirror, so dark they gleam almost black, looks at the point where Cam’s cock disappears inside him. It’s shadowed, they don’t see the hole in detail, but mere silhouette of the shaft pumping between the curves of Sebastian’s trained buttocks is indisputably enough to raise heat in anyone.

Cam grabs Sebastian’s cock. The touch makes Sebastian moan, and when he moves his hand even slightly, the boy starts to shudder like he’s about to come.

Cam sees in the mirror how Sebastian tries to hold himself together, biting his lip, squeezing his eyes tight shut.

He still has only one foot on the ground, the other on the countertop, and he lifts his upper body upright to lean back to Cam, hanging with one hand from his neck, trying to support himself to the edge of the counter with the other, barely reaching the lip of the sink with his fingertips.

It happens in all of a sudden. Sebastian jolts with a sudden shiver, bursts out warm sprays that land as droplets on the hem of his shirt and stream down over Cam’s loosely curled fingers.

Cam knows Sebastian well enough to know he’s not too sensitive to be fucked through his orgasm and beyond and keeps thrusting inside him, holds him close and moves in short fast pushes until he doesn’t have to any more, he can just stand still, feel the release wash out of his body, merge into the –

 

confused little kid collapsing into a trembling mess in his arms. Sebastian shakes with violent sobs, cheeks soaked by streaming tears. He hugs himself, arms crossed over his waist, fingers digging into Cam’s wrist on one side, his bicep on the other.

They slouch on the floor together, Cam controlling and softening the downfall to resemble something akin of sitting down.

“Why don’t you answer me?” Sebastian weeps and Cam realizes that yes, he has heard Sebastian talking to him but no, he has been too far gone to pay attention.

“Sorry, baby, I couldn’t hear you,” he says, wiping the teary cheeks with his hands, chin pressed to Sebastian’s hair.

Sebastian rubs his head to his cheek and hand and turns his face upward to look at him.

“Would your other boy toys have done this?“ he asks. His voice is shy but the glare in his eyes is challenging.

“My _what?_ ” Cam can’t help it: he’s simply perplexed.

His confused tone makes Sebastian’s expression turn unsure, embarrassed. He starts fidgeting with his fingers and casts his eyes down at them. “Never mind,” he mumbles.

“No, Sebastian,” Cam demands. “You have to tell me. Something is bothering you.”

Sebastian twists his fingers and keeps his gaze locked to them but slowly he starts talking.

“That’s what Cody said. That I’m not the first of your boy toys. That she’s met them before. I’m just the newest one.” He tilts his face upwards and looks at Cam. “I guess I was hoping I’d at least be a hot one.”

Cam doesn’t know where to start. But he has to, fast, because the whole imaginary construction Sebastian has built around himself – it needs to be demolished.

“You’ve talked to my wife? And she said you those things?”

“Well – yeah,” Sebastian says. “Some days before we left on the long road trip.”

Cam sighs, looks to the side and returns his gaze to Sebastian.

“I’d say she’s wildly exaggerating,” he says and shakes his head. “Boy toys, sheesh,” he mutters more to himself than to Sebastian.

“I mean,” he continues, “I have been with guys before, and she has met some of them, but –“ his eyes are serious, nearly sad – “They haven’t been many, and I would not use that expression of — anyone I’ve had a relationship with, you included.”

He rubs the skin around his mouth, eyes glistening like they were tearing up, detaches his hand from his face and puts it on the Sebastian’s cheek. “You especially,” he adds. “You have no idea. How special you are, Sebastian. I – you mean so much to me.”

Sebastian nods and swallows hard. He shifts to a more upward sitting position, places his chin to his folded knee and looks contemplating. He stares at the black tiles of the floor for a moment and looks Cam in the eye, a trace of the earlier desperation still in his cautious gaze.

“Cam,” he says in a small voice, “Could you tell me about them?”

Cam strokes Sebastian’s hair and draws his head to his chest. “I can. But not here, okay? Do you think you could get up and come back to the hotel with me?”

They get up arduously, stretching their limbs. Sebastian wets some tissue by the sink to clean himself up a bit.

The undressed leg of his jeans hangs inside out. He pulls it the right way, draws his underwear and jeans back on, fishes the shoe from the corner under the sink while Cam washes his hands and straightens his clothes.

Sebastian checks himself in the mirror, shakes his hair, throws it back, tucks it behind his ears, picks up his beanie from the counter and pulls it on his head.

He catches Cam’s eyes in the mirror with a quiet smirk.

“Yeah, I think I can,” he says.

 

Cam buys them coffees for the hotel room: it’s late, way past midnight, but the moment calls for something warm, sobering and refreshing.

Cam starts telling his story over the coffees, about the fun and smart sommelier, friendly eyes, quick wit. Someone he met one off-season in a winery near their own vineyard and came back to for three summers, discreetly and with Cody’s consent, until the guy met the man of his dreams and realized that hooking up with an older married man was no longer what he wanted out of life.

 

They shower, taking turns, and brush their teeth, together, and go on talking, cuddled up in their matching hotel bathrobes.

Cam tells about the couple of one-night stands he had: one that Cody nearly pushed him into ( _He’s totally checking you out! No, don’t look! Now look!_ ), another one that she reluctantly said yes to over the phone.

The hardest part is going back in time to what Cam still considers the first real love of his life, a teammate even before he met Cody, and who his blessed wife – then still a girlfriend – encouraged him to keep seeing even when they were together.

“Why did it end?” Sebastian asks. “I mean, if it worked for you?”

Cam sighs.

"You got to understand, we didn’t have an easy start when we were younger – we had both been brought up to believe that it was twisted to be attracted to a guy and a sin to act on it. When he got kids – he kind of got more conservative, like he fell back to those childhood beliefs.”

He shakes his head at the memory.

“He said they didn’t want to risk their kids being exposed to something that wasn’t ‘normal family life’ _,”_ Cam says.

Sebastian sees the pained expression, hears the quotation marks in Cam’s voice around the words _normal family life._ He feels the hurt like it was inside his own chest.

“I’m sorry”, he says. “It’s their loss, I think. If they want to raise their kids believing that only one kind of family is a real and normal family, then I’m sorry for the kids too.”

Cam hugs him tight and presses a kiss on the top of his head.

“You’re so good, Sebastian,” he says. “You’re really one of a different generation.”

 

<> 

 

There’s a text message from Pekka Rinne on Sebastian’s phone in the morning.

_You left your backpack here, I’ll drop it off for you before you leave_

Sebastian calls him back immediately.

“I’m sorry I left like that,” he says.

“No worries. I can’t blame you. I was out of line with the shit I said to you.”

_Pekka is too kind_ , Sebastian thinks.

“I can’t blame you either,” he says. “I know you only wanted to protect me.”

 

Pekka comes over to their hotel less than an hour later, handing Sebastian his backpack down in the lobby and hugging him tight in front of Sebastian’s teammates.

“Do you have to hoard all the goalie daddies? Leave some for the rest of us,” Brock McGinn teases. He’s standing talking to Noah Hanifin on the other side of the lobby, and both chuckle amused.

Sebastian gives them the finger. “Not my fault! What can I do if they all want the best?” he hollers over his shoulder.

Pekka shakes his head and grins. “You’re ruining my reputation,” he says to Sebastian in Finnish. “Leave me out of it, I’m just an old family friend!” he shouts to McGinn and Hanifin, switching to the language they can understand.

“Now you’re ruining mine,” Sebastian whispers back at him.

Pekka takes Sebastian’s cap of his head, ruffles his hair and puts the cap back on. “Nobody can ruin anybody’s reputation but their own,” he says.

 

Sebastian steps outside to say goodbye to Pekka, out of the hearing distance of his teammates.

“So, goalie daddies?” Pekka asks. “Your teammates seem to be cool with it. At least enough to openly roast you about it.”

Sebastian chuckles. “Yeah, I guess. But I know how this kind of relationship must look on the outside. I understand what made you talk to me like that. And I – I don’t know how long this will last, not for the rest of my life, for sure. It’s not ideal on all accounts, but it’s what I need now.” Sebastian pauses, squints at the sun and looks back at Pekka. “He makes me happy.”

Pekka smiles widely. “Happy sounds good. I’m glad to see you’re doing better,” Pekka says. “I’ll be happy to tell it to your dad, too.”

Sebastian shakes his head.

“No. I want to talk to him myself.”

 

It’s not perfect, it’s not for the rest of my life, but it’s what I need now. Those are the words Sebastian uses with his parents, too.

“And really, dad,” he says very pointedly, “You need to remember that while I’m always your child, I am twenty. I live on my own. Whatever happens in my sex life is none of your business.”

Sebastian is not sappy enough to use the expression ‘love life’, and more importantly, his dad deserves to flinch uncomfortably at the mention of sex.

“Alright,” Harri says after a moment of silence. “But he’d better not hurt you in any way. Or else I’ll bring a knife and an ax with me for Christmas and slaughter him on the spot.”

“ _Iskä!_ ” Sebastian laughs. “Dad, I’m certainly not picking you up at the airport if you try to smuggle a ten inch salmon fishing knife into the country.”

 

This time Cam won’t let Sebastian out of his sight on the home airport. And, more importantly, after talking to Cam over the phone in the morning, while Sebastian was sorting out things with his parents and Pekka, neither does Cody.

She greets the weary young traveler with kisses on both cheeks.

“I hope you’ll forgive me causing you such distress earlier,” she says.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Hey, I can’t blame you. You had much harder stuff to forgive me than I ever had for you,” he assures.

He casts a longing gaze at Cam, and moves his eyes back at Cody. “You’re getting your man back. I did my best to have him in good hands,” he says.

Cody squints at him scoldingly but burst out a soft laughter. “I’m sure you did,” she says shaking her head. “And I’m glad you did. Thank you.”

Sebastian shifts weight from one foot to another in his shiny white sneakers. Cody is unable to tell if they’re new ones or the same, these hockey boys and their obsession with footwear.

She tilts her head to the side and gives an emphatic look at Sebastian.

“You must be an awful lot by yourself for someone so young,” she says, extends her hand and touches Sebastian’s cheek warily. “I think you need a family.”

 

<> 

 

“Did you get your parents to their flight all right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Sebastian says. He lays on top of Cam in bed, naptime before the night’s game in Pittsburgh.

It's the second game of the new year and the second against their divisional rivals inside a week, a tight win under their belt from the first one.

Sebastian’s parents were there to witness their son’s game-winning goal and left for Finland after New Year’s.

 

Christmas can be about awkward, stiff conversations around the dinner table but it can also be about reconciliation. This time Sebastian is sure that his parents boarded on their homebound flight on good terms, trusting in their son’s ability to lead his life.

If his father had managed to smuggle a hatchet in the country, it had surely been buried.

 

Sebastian presses his nose to Cam’s and smirks.

“One of these days I’ll get over my twisted father figure crush on you. Just wait and see,” he says.

“I’ll be so proud of you when you do. My sexy little boy going forward in his life,” Cam chuckles against his lips and catches them for a kiss.

 

The game is a success. Shutout on the Pens’ home ice, what could be sweeter? Sebastian scores their last goal like a true showman, skating at full speed around the Penguins defender Justin Schultz and netting the puck.

Cam praises his boy in the post-game interview. Heck, what can be better than to love such an elite player that you don’t have to hold back anything when you want to just shout from the rooftops how awesome he is?

He’s happy to be asked about Sebastian, and once he gets started on the subject, it’s hard to stop talking. Cam has already praised his resilience and skating and the list goes on. "He can create a lot of individual plays with his high-end skill and speed,” he says, and realizes he hasn’t said a word about the game yet.

"He took that guy out wide, put the jets on and finished it," Cam continues. "He's a very good, young talent we have, and I'm extremely happy he's on our side. He's playing with confidence. When he does, he's such a dangerous player."

 

“Your boyfriend makes a great slalom pole,” Sebastian exclaims gleefully at Olli Määttä, shower-fresh in the hallway outside locker rooms. The tall Finn stops on his step and gives him a slow, tired look.

“I won’t even get started on _your_ boyfriend. Or, well. Not exactly a _boy_ ,” Olli replies.

Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, pouts and leans his back to the wall, stands there slanted, one leg crossed over the other. Teuvo chuckles at him.

Cam emerges from the locker room, greets Olli and Teuvo and directs his attention at Sebastian. “Are you okay to go?” he asks.

Sebastian nods towards Olli. “He’s being mean to me,” he smirks.

Cam glances at the amused defender and musses Sebastian’s hair. “He’s just pissed we won,” he says.

Teuvo bursts out a soft laughter. Sebastian pushes himself upright and takes Cam’s hand to drape his arm around his neck like a feather boa. He leans to the crook of Cam’s chest and shoulder and tilts his head back to look up at Cam’s face. “Are we going out to celebrate now?” he asks.

Cam smiles down at him, laugh lines bunching from the corners of his eyes down towards his cheeks and temples. “I said we would, didn’t I?”

Sebastian looks defiantly over the hall at Teuvo and Olli. “Daddy’s taking me out for champagne,” he declares, beaming.

Olli makes a gagging sound, grimaces and looks at Teuvo.

“Please don’t tell me those two perverts are coming to the same place as us,” he says, deadpan face hardly hiding the fact that the corners of his lips are twitching into a smile.

Teuvo smirks and shakes his head. “I think we can divert them,” he says. “When they’re like that, they don’t really pay attention to the outside world.”

 

 

<the end>

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pekka Rinne and Harri Aho have not played together; Harri retired from his playing career a year before Pekka played his first games, but I considered the time gap small enough to bring them together here for story purposes.
> 
> The "locker room in diapers" thing has been said about Sebastian Aho but not by Pekka Rinne. It was Lasse Kukkonen, captain of Oulun Kärpät and Team Finland, during the IIHF Worlds 2017.
> 
> Writing this has been quite a journey; I hope reading it has been even half as emotional and entertaining.
> 
> As always, feel free to point out errors and suggest tags on sensitive subjects I might have missed.
> 
> I love all kinds of feedback and reader interaction, so please, comment, leave kudos, question my choices, either over here or on my tumblr, pob-lwc-caixa (the main blog) or badhockeymom (hockey).
> 
> For cuter, sweeter and more age-appropriate Sebastian Aho fics check out the rest of my hockey rpf tag :)
> 
> Go Canes!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos very very welcome.


End file.
